


Out of Phase

by Rubber_Radish



Category: Blackwell Series (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Entire Series Spoilers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Minor Unavowed Spoilers (details in notes), Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 50,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27583544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubber_Radish/pseuds/Rubber_Radish
Summary: After the events of Epiphany, Joey is sent back three weeks before George Ostin was shot. Alive. He doesn't know why he's there, but there's one thing he knows he needs to do. One thing he needs to prevent. And as Joey's attempts to change the past grow more desperate, Rosa tries to figure out what's going on before it's too late.
Relationships: Rosangela Blackwell/Joey Mallone
Comments: 33
Kudos: 23





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Unavowed spoilers include using certain locations, appearance of minor characters, bits of lore, and some (minor) puzzle spoilers by proxy, and occur around the halfway point of the story. There won't be anything that cannot be understood without playing Unavowed, and the spoilers don't spoil anything related to the main story, but if this is important to you, feel free to come back after playing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I didn’t think this was possible but there is a piece of fan art for this fic!! And it’s beautiful.  
> [Look at it here!!](https://www.instagram.com/p/CLpyCmeHz8A/?igshid=1eke6gat5j3p9&fbclid=IwAR0xjMHL16ZXgAnXRG5rKmtAuERUC7g5W3h3cpya5cjQoYXQd2KnSX-XBiA)  
> And send the artist some love, of course. :)
> 
> Thank you, naensut!

Rosa yawned as she pushed open the door of her bedroom. It felt like no matter how long she slept these days, she was always exhausted. Too many long nights, she supposed. And she'd have to do the same today. Another long day of ghost helping. Or whatever it was that they did. "Morning, Joey," she mumbled, not bothering to look up as she stepped into the room. She didn't need to, anyway. He was always there, floating a few feet away from her. Usually he'd be gazing out the window, taking advantage of the fact that there was now a view beyond the brick facade of the building next door. And yet, today, the room remained silent.

"Joey?"

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she scanned the room more properly, but there was a distinct lack of the blue, ethereal- What was _that_?

A prone figure, on the floor near the couch. A man. Unconscious? Dead? He wasn't moving, either way. The door was still closed and locked, without any signs of forced entry. At least, not any that she could see. So, how did he get here? The window was also shut, as usual, curtains tightly drawn the way she liked them. Nothing in the apartment seemed disturbed in any way.

Nothing except for the man's presence.

"Joey?" Rosa tried again, looking around. He couldn't be far, but he wasn't in the room. Was the hallway really the best place to hang out at the moment? Even if he couldn't really do anything to help, it was better than being alone. She tiptoed toward the man, not entirely sure what she was doing.

 _Please, please don't be dead._ She reached out, poking his shoulder. Nothing. What was she supposed to do with a dead body? God, she was going to get arrested, and she was pretty sure whatever pull she had with the police department couldn't out-pull murder. Not that she killed him. Of course she didn't kill him, she didn't even know who he was. Was he even dead? " _Joey_?" she exclaimed, panic creeping into her voice. Where the hell was he? "Joey, this isn't funny."

But the man looked a little familiar, didn't he?

No. There was no way. That didn't even make sense. But no matter what way she tried to spin it in her head, there was one thing that was becoming increasingly clear. And she didn't think she could deny it any longer.

Joey was the man on the floor.

* * *

His head was pounding, something it hadn't done for nearly a century. He hadn't had a head. Not a physical one, at least. The cold winter air stung against his face, his hands, any piece of flesh exposed to the elements. He was _alive_ , he realized, looking down at his hands. He was really alive. He was alive, and she was-

Joey dropped to his knees, the silky fabric of his tie slipping through his hand as it dropped into the snow. "Please, Red. I didn't- God, I didn't want _this_."

Her body was motionless on the ground, a thin layer of snow already forming on her coat. Her glasses had fallen into the snow. Probably when she'd-

He didn't know. Hell, he had no idea how, but he was alive. And yet that fact felt so small at the moment because of what was in front of him. He dragged himself closer, the snow eagerly dampening the knees of his pants.

" _Please_." Who was he begging, anyway? The universe? The universe didn't give a damn. The universe was why she was- His vision blurred with tears as the distant sound of sirens got louder, the cold air harsh against his throat with each ragged breath. Hand trembling, he reached out, brushing a few strands of hair from her damp cheek. "Don't leave me alone."

Pain shot through his head suddenly, and he reflexively reached up, grunting. _What the hell?_ As soon as the thought shot through his brain, the pain intensified, blinding white obscuring his vision. _Jesus-_ He doubled over, face contorting. He was dying, that had to be it. There was no way someone could be in this much pain and _not_ -

By the time the police arrived on the scene, there was only one body left in the snow.

* * *

He was going to be mad when he woke up. It was the only thing that went through Rosa's head, over and over, because it was the only somewhat normal thought she could think. He'd complained her ear off the first time she'd brought him here, over four years ago now. 'I was stuck here for twenty-five years, why'd you drag me back here, if you get us stuck in the loony bin I'll make your life a living hell'... Normal things like that.

Was he even the same Joey? She hated even entertaining the possibility, but... People didn't just come back to life like that.

No. _Stop that Rosa, you're going down that line of thought again. You'll ask him when he wakes up._

If he even knew who she was, that was. It was hard enough to explain to the cops why she knew him. A man with no documentation, not a single piece of paper to say he existed. ' _He's a family friend'_ , she had said.

' _How'd he get into your apartment?'_

' _I don't know.'_

They'd let her in the hospital room anyway. Who else could've been there? He didn't have a family, didn't have connections left with anyone alive.

Her eyes shot up at the sound of the sheets rusling. He was stirring, slowly, eventually sitting up as the sheets fell around his body. As he did, his gaze landed on her and stuck, eyes widening like he'd, well, like he'd seen a ghost. She waited a moment, but he didn't speak, didn't do anything but continue to stare.

"Joey?" She could've been talking to a wall. He was frozen, eyes trained unwaveringly on her. It was making her kind of uncomfortable, to be honest. "Do you know who I am?"

That look in his eyes. She couldn't place it, but it left a coldness in her chest. She'd never seen him look at anything like that. Nothing except for that old man in the retirement home. Danny Marconi. It had been brief, but she'd seen the pain and disbelief flash across his face, though he tried to hide it. Joey wouldn't even look in the old man's direction after he'd realized who he'd been. But Joey wasn't hiding his expression now, and he wasn't looking away, either. Rosa got out of her seat, walking forward until they were only about a foot apart.

"Joey?" she repeated. His eyes were so blue, she couldn't help noticing. More so now that the rest of him wasn't. "Do you know who I-"

His hand shot out from beneath the sheets, palming the side of her face. She couldn't help but involuntarily pull back a bit, surprised by the sudden contact.

His hand was trembling against her face, fingers stiff like he was afraid of relaxing them. "God, Red, look at you," he finally whispered. "I thought for sure you..."

The thoughts in her head were spinning faster now. That confirmed one thing. He definitely knew who she was. But this didn't make sense. None of this made sense. And in the end, only one word made it out of her mouth. "Me?" She looked the same as always. She cleared her throat nervously. "You're the one who's..." She gestured at him, and he looked down.

Something seemed to click in his head, and he retracted the hand as if she'd burned him. "Right." And then he was silent again, for a moment that went on for far longer than Rosa would've liked. His fingers kept dancing on his lap, tapping away, eyes now searching the room. Whatever expression she'd seen was now long gone.

"We're... not in Bellevue, are we?" he joked halfheartedly, not looking back at her.

"I was afraid you'd notice." The response came oddly naturally, as if this was how they usually interacted. Never mind the fact that this was simultaneously the most normal and most unusual thing that had happened to her in a long time.

"Did the docs say what was wrong with me?"

She shook her head. "They mostly kept you here as a precaution."

He nodded, but the movement came off stiff. "In that case, I guess we ought to head home."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Home. We should... go home." God, this was going to be weird.

* * *

Joey sat on that same ratty old couch, looking around the living room of Red's apartment. Everything was exactly the way he had remembered it. Same garish pink walls, same weird assortment of trinkets in the corner, same computer box thing he could never figure out. Who could've known the last time he'd been here was the night before Red... _died_.

If a thought could hurt to think, that one would be the one. He couldn't tell her. There was no _way_ he could tell her. He could still picture her slumped figure in the snow, the color in her cheeks fading as he knelt beside her.

She seemed so _alive_ now. Even more so than she'd ever looked when he had been dead. Maybe that was just part of being alive. Everything looked more real, felt more real. To the point that he was almost afraid to touch any of it. So he sat. Like some sort of obedient schoolchild, hands folded in his lap. It didn't feel natural. But to be frank, not much about existing did at the moment. So he just observed, looking around the small home he'd spent years in as if it was all something entirely new.

The same family photos were still littered around the room, family Red barely remembered if at all. Each one of them was now completely absent of him.

It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't know what day it was. What year it was, even. The only calendar in the apartment was horribly out of date, so the only thing he could do was look around. He scanned over the doodads Red kept, mentally going over where they'd gotten each one. Those were the pills they'd copped from that Susan girl. That was the portrait of Joe Gould that used to hang in the Minetta. That was the hideous bird statue that had belonged to Lisa Tenzin. It still blew his mind that anyone would intentionally keep anything that ugly around. But if they'd already acquired it, that meant that it was pretty far down the line of them being stuck together. Which meant that it wouldn't be long before...

But the timeline had changed. That wouldn't happen again. They were both normal, now, whatever that meant. Who would've known that transitioning to this new normalcy would've been harder than transitioning to the one where they'd spent every night chasing down ghosts.

Now the only ghosts he had left to chase were his own.

It had been fairly late by the time they had made it back to the apartment, nearly midnight. Usually, at this time, Red would've refilled her coffee for the second or third time of the night, and they'd be heading out again to roam the streets. But neither of them had had a clue on what to do when they'd walked into the room a few minutes ago. He'd mumbled something about taking the couch, and she'd mumbled something back, leaving the apartment. He wasn't sure where she'd gone. Next door, maybe? It was odd to think of the fact that she could go anywhere now. Anywhere without him at her side.

The sound of a key in the lock made him look up, and Red walked back in, carrying some blankets in her arms.

"Here," she said, handing them to him. "I got these from Nishanti. By the way, I told her you were a friend from college. So don't tell her anything weird, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, darling." His mouth felt like it was moving on its own. He couldn't even look at her. He could hear her moving away now, the sound of her opening the door to the closet she called her bedroom. But the sound stopped suddenly. She was probably looking back at him. Figures.

"Joey?"

"...yeah?"

There was a pause before she responded. "How are you alive?"

He winced, hands involuntarily balling up the blankets. "It's been a long day, kid."

She didn't bother pressing the issue.

* * *

Something was wrong. Rosa wanted to laugh at the thought because it was such an obvious one, but it kept bothering her. You'd think getting back your life after losing it for so long would be a good thing. But Joey didn't look happy at all. He looked hollow, cheeks gaunt, voice lacking its usual energy when he spoke. He almost sounded... guilty.

She could hear him through the thin walls, shifting around on the couch. It wasn't a sound she was accustomed to hearing. Sure, he was a loudmouth, but when he wasn't talking? Dead silent, with an emphasis on dead. The sound of him moving now would constantly startle her out of her thoughts.

She trusted him, didn't she? That wasn't a question. Then why was she asking herself that? Did she know who he was anymore? Did she ever?

Joey never really liked talking about himself. Even after all the time they'd spent together, she was only now learning bits and pieces of his past. About who he'd been. After that last mission, he'd set his jaw, staring holes through her tiny apartment window as rain pelted the glass. It was hours before he'd said a single word about it.

' _I've got a lot of regrets, Red. A lot of unanswered questions. You'd think giving it time would change things, but I've been around a long time, and it's changed nothing.'_

So, she doubted he would tell her what was wrong until at least another eighty years had passed. But she deserved to know, didn't she? If she was going to have to put up with some strange man living in her-

God, she just called him a strange man. The only person she'd talked to on a daily basis for years. But he practically _was_ a stranger now. He looked different, acted differently. And she had no idea why.

People just didn't come back to life like that. What could he have done? Some kind of demonic ritual? Maybe he'd sold his soul away for more time. Maybe he'd sold _hers_. Was that why he wouldn't look her in the eye? Why wouldn't he just _talk_ to her?

It wasn't like there was anyone else she could ask. 'My ghost friend is suddenly alive' would just get her a one-way ticket to a padded cell. Was it too much to say she was concerned about him? The look that had been in his eyes at the hospital...

He hadn't expected her to be there. The realization hit her like a slap to the face, and any trace of sleepiness left suddenly. She found herself looking at the bedroom door, wondering if she'd locked it. Wondering if she'd never been meant to wake up again that morning.

Joey wouldn't. He'd saved her life multiple times. He'd saved Auntie Lauren, too. He-

The fact she had no idea what had happened was driving her insane. She didn't know who he was anymore, whether anything from the past meant anything anymore. Whether more than just his status of living had changed.

She had to find out. If not for him, then for herself. First thing in the morning, she'd ask.

She woke up to an empty apartment.

* * *

His face was cold when he woke up, wet with tears he didn't remember shedding. The sun felt impossibly bright, and he found himself moving toward the light streaming through the window, clumsily tugging open the curtains. It was the first time he'd slept in eighty years.

He could see his own face reflected in the glass. If he wasn't still exhausted, he would've scowled at it. Eighty years of not having a reflection, and he gets to see this puffy mess of a face. He pulled the curtains back shut. There was no way he could let Red see him like this. She'd just ask things, things he wasn't willing to answer. He ran a hand through his hair, washing his face at the kitchen sink. Outside. He'd just take a walk and clear his head.

He walked over to her desk, rummaging through her purse for keys. It felt wrong, but he didn't have the time to think about it. Not now. He just had to get away. Before she noticed, before she said something he couldn't respond to.

It was chilly down on the streets, he noticed, as he walked away from the apartment complex. He couldn't feel the cold before. Now every step sent daggers of icy wind flying past his face.

He was practically invisible amongst the passerby, something that struck him amusing having been _literally_ invisible only days ago. Barely anyone bothered glancing at him, and those who did quickly looked away. Suited him just fine. It gave him space to think.

He tried running through facts in his head again. If they'd already gotten that bird statue, they'd already gone up against Gavin, which meant...

Madeline. Rage and grief bubbled up in his chest at the thought of her name, feet subconsciously moving faster. He could hear the rush of blood in his ears. God, she was out there, wasn't she? Because _he'd_ let her out of the damn void. _You really are a schmuck, aren't you?_ If Red was normal now, there was no way Madeline could go through with her plans. But that low-life Victorian-era broad didn't know that. She'd kill innocent people. Tear apart innocent souls. Like George Ostin and Kendra's mother, and-

He had to stop her. Somehow. He couldn't even see the broad anymore. Couldn't see any of the spooks. But he had to try, didn't he? It was what they did, after all.

No. It was what _he_ did. Red could keep her pretty little head far away from all this. Now that they weren't shackled together anymore, there was no point dragging her into this. This was between him and Madeline. And it was _damn_ personal.

But what was he going to tell Red? The anger clouding him dissipated suddenly, and he stopped walking, the fists in his pockets loosening.

What the hell was he going to tell her?

* * *

"Morning, Red," he said jovially as he walked through the door with a paper bag, tossing something down on the coffee table.

Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest. "Where have you been?" she demanded. "I thought you were-"

"Dead?"

She sighed in exasperation, looking down at the table. What the hell? Had he seriously gone through her stuff?

"Are those my keys?"

"Lighten up, sweetheart. It's not like I could've left without them." He sat and opened up the bag, pulling out a bagel. "I got us breakfast."

"And how did you _pay_ for breakfast?"

He pulled her wallet out of a suit pocket, tossing it onto the table as well. "You think I didn't know your PIN number after hanging over your shoulder for so long?"

"Joey-"

She was cut off by another bagel being shoved into her hands. "Come on, kid. Eat up while it's still warm."

"You're not concerned at all about the fact you violated my privacy?"

She could see his face twitch before he took a huge bite of his bagel, fingers toying with the paper it was wrapped in. "Hm?"

She sighed, relenting. "Never mind." The bagel _was_ good at least, and he seemed to have remembered her preferences. But it turned out that it was harder than she'd expected to ask him anything, though, let alone get an answer.

"I saw Nishanti in the hall," he continued, either oblivious or intentionally dodging the question. Rosa suspected the latter. "She told me about how great it was that you'd finally found 'such a nice young man'."

"Oh, _God_."

"For the record, _I_ didn't tell her anything. That one's all on you, doll."

"But you corrected her, didn't you?"

He shrugged, continuing to eat his bagel. "Don't think it would've mattered if I did."

" _Joey_."

"Oh, come on, you know I'm right. If I said anything, and I mean _anything_ , it would've just drilled that idea further into that old broad's head."

"You could've at least tried."

"Sure. I could've."

"But you didn't."

"But I didn't."

Ugh. As if she didn't already have enough to deal with as it was. Speaking of which...

She looked back at him, still munching away at the bagel. "When are you going to tell me what happened?"

He stopped eating instantly, face turning to stone. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You can't deny it," she insisted. "The proof is literally in front of me. You weren't alive two days ago. You are now. What happened?"

He slowly put the remainder of his bagel back in the bag, standing up. "Nothing."

"You've somehow reversed death and that's _nothing_?" she exclaimed, exasperated.

"It wasn't-" He shook his head, back turned to her. "Forget it."

She shook her head back, incredulous. "This isn't something I can just _forget_."

"Well, maybe you should change that, then." He walked up to the door, frown deepening. "Don't wait up."

"Joey, wait." She started after him, but he was moving too fast. "You didn't take the-" She winced as the door slammed in her face. "... keys."


	2. Directionless

He had no idea where to go. But he couldn’t have stayed. The air was getting too thick, he hadn’t been able to breathe, he-

They dealt with death every day. It was their forte, their calling, their occupation- whatever you wanted to call it. And here he was. An utter fool. A coward. Running away from everything. Running away from _her_.

He didn’t know why he was here. Not really. He’d convinced himself, somehow, that it was to stop Madeline. That if he just saved one person then it would be worth it. That he had to do it by himself because if Red got herself tangled up in all this again, if she got hurt, if she- God, he couldn’t even think it.

If anything happened to her he could never forgive himself.

He had to pick up the loose threads. Go back to the beginning. How all the nonsense started. And it started with George Ostin. The man who’d been murdered in front of them.

Retracing their footsteps to George’s apartment came easily enough to him- they’d gone a handful of times in order to solve that last case. The case in which every thread led back to Madeline. This time around, he was counting on it.

Fancy as ever, he mused, subconsciously straightening his suit as he entered the apartment lobby. Luckily for him, clothes didn’t seem to get any more wrinkled when you’re dead.

The doorman looked up as he walked in, eyes narrowing slightly. Hopefully from lack of recognition rather than from a disheveled appearance. “Can I help you, sir?”

Joey smoothed down the old tie one more time before responding. “Yeah, I was looking for a George Ostin. Do you know if he’s in at the moment?”

The doorman tactfully dipped his head. “He is. Would you like me to call him down?”

Jackpot. Joey nodded. “Tell him my name’s Joey Mallone, and that if he’s trying to look for the Bestower, that I might know a thing or two.”

The doorman relayed the information, albeit not without a skeptical glare, and after a moment, a man stepped out of the elevator. Ostin.

His eyes were wide, bloodshot, face white as a sheet. The man was nicely dressed, but his clothes were rumpled, as if he hadn’t bothered changing them in a few days. He walked up to Joey as if he was approaching some kind of wild animal, like he would jump up and bite him. “You’re the Bestower? I thought the Bestower was...”

“Was?” Joey prompted.

“I thought she was a woman.”

“Ah.” Well, this was a tad awkward. He thought back to his last interaction with Red, shrinking a bit internally from guilt. He’d really walked out on her like that, hadn’t he? He’d have to make up for that later. “I’m... not her. But if you want to talk more, it’d be better a little further from...” He snuck a glance back at the doorman, still watching him like a hawk. “...other ears.”

* * *

Rosa really wished she hadn’t said anything. Everything had been fine, almost normal, even, and she had to go and mess it up. She always just had a way with words, didn’t she?

Ugh. There was only one thing she knew for certain. She had to get to the bottom of this. Joey rarely looked so _bothered_ about anything. Whatever this was, it had to be something big. And now, for the first time in nearly four years, she had absolutely no idea where he was. It felt like the equivalent of losing an arm.

There had to be a clue somewhere. Sure, a dead man didn’t tend to leave clues around, but a living one sure could. She grabbed the bagel bag, pulling the crumpled remains of a receipt out from the bottom. Bagel Stop. She was familiar with the place. It wasn’t far from her apartment, only a few blocks away, really. And the time of purchase printed on the receipt was only a few minutes before Joey had come back. And yet she’d been alone in the apartment for hours. He’d left for something else. And she wouldn’t be surprised if it was for the same reason he’d just run out the door.

“I guess I’m going to the bagel shop, then,” she said, to no one in particular. “I hope they have good coffee.”

Snow was starting to fall when she left the apartment, making her second-guess what she’d decided to wear out. _Too late now_ , she supposed. At least the shop wasn’t far. She supposed the coffee she’d inevitably buy would keep her warm.

The cashier didn’t seem very interested in her presence. Or anything, really. He was half-slumped in front of the register, fiddling with a permanent marker.

“Hi,” she greeted, scanning the menu. Hm. Nothing but regular drip coffee. It’d have to do.

“Welcome to Bagel Stop,” the cashier droned, his tone suggesting anything but. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m looking for a friend,” Rosa explained. “He was here maybe an hour ago? He was wearing a suit and tie.”

“Uh huh.”

“I was wondering if you’ve seen him?” she tried again. Hopefully, not everyone would be so unhelpful, but that wasn’t exactly new for her, either. Barging into places uninvited and asking unwanted questions was something she was doing on a daily basis, after all.

“Heh. Yeah. I saw him. He was sitting in the corner mumbling to himself for nearly an hour before he bought anything. Seemed pretty upset.”

Upset? He’d been smiling when he’d walked in. That didn’t add up. “Do you know what about?” It was worth a shot.

The cashier frowned. “No. Why would I?”

Alright. So that wasn’t going to work. “Thanks anyway.” She paused for a moment. “Could I get a medium coffee? Cream and sugar?”

“Mhm. That’ll be $2.50.”

* * *

“My girlfriend is missing,” George finally said, after making himself a cup of tea.

A stupid move, Joey surmised, considering the man’s hands were shaking so much he could hardly hold the cup without spilling hot liquid all over himself. He supposed it was still an improvement over the last time he’d seen him, though. Shot and killed only to have his spirit torn apart.

“Her little daughter, too,” Ostin continued, voice trembling like the rest of him. “It’s been three days now.”

Kendra. It’d only been three days? When he first met Kendra’s ghost, it had been weeks after their disappearance. That meant... Joey’s eyes widened. Maybe it wasn’t too late to save her. If he left now, there was a chance that she was still alive.

“I’ve told the police everything I know, but they haven’t helped at all,” George continued, voice cracking. “I think they’re completely in the dark. Michael told me someone was looking for us. That we weren’t safe. That we had to find the Bestower or we’d-“ He looked back at Joey, eyes shining with unshed tears. “You said you knew her?”

If the disappearance was recent, there was a good chance that Kendra’s father, Emil, wasn’t working. Which meant that he could grab the key to the Pierro house from his office, get inside, and-

“Mr. Mallone?”

“Huh?” Joey blinked, having completely stopped listening to the other man.

“The Bestower,” George repeated. “Do you know her?”

Huh. Red wasn’t much of a Bestower, anymore. As much as he was a spirit guide. Or a spirit at all. “Yeah. I do. But she can’t help you anymore.”

George dropped the cup, the porcelain shattering to pieces on the floor. “ _What_? Is that why you’re here? To tell us there’s no hope?”

“No. That’s not why I’m here.” Joey stood up, mind still reeling. “Don’t leave this apartment, alright? I’m gonna try and sort some things out.”

“What are you talking about?” George demanded. “You just told me that the one person who could’ve helped us can’t anymore, and now you’re trying to give me orders?”

“Look, George,” he said, making eye contact. “I don’t really know you. And you don’t really know me. But I’ve got a pretty good idea of how to stop this, and you’ve got no other options. So I’m asking you to trust me.”

The man hesitated for a moment, probably contemplating whether or not to call the cops. Joey seriously considered for a moment whether he could get himself arrested faster than Red had, but Ostin eventually sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. Do whatever you have to do. I’ll be here.”

* * *

Faced with no viable leads, Rosa found herself in a nearby cafe after the outdoors had proven to be too cold, looking things up on the internet. Like a true detective. There wasn’t much online about resurrection, just the usual religious references, a thing or two about phony psychics and mediums. Something that was probably a cult website- she swiped that one away pretty quickly. And since she was _pretty_ sure that Joey wasn’t Jesus...

Nothing. She had nothing. He clearly knew something she didn’t, but she had no idea how. They had always been together. They’d had no choice but to always be together.

Even despite the obvious, she had no idea what to do with her own life, now that she was normal. Find another job? Her resume was a cobbled-together mess. The Village Eye had stopped publishing their papers years ago, and since it had been her last actual job, it would’ve been an awful reference as well. They’d only really been paid a few times running their ghost gigs. Barely enough to pay the bills, and she’d found herself digging into her savings far more often than she would’ve liked. Now she couldn’t even see ghosts anymore.

She didn’t have the money to go back to college, and didn’t have enough still saved up to just do nothing for the rest of her life.

Maybe Joey could get a job. Wasn’t that a hilarious thought. She had no idea what he’d even do. She barely knew what he did before he’d died in the first place.

_‘So if that picture is of Danny Marconi, and he was a tailor, and you two used to work together, then you were a tailor too?’_

_‘Yep.’_

That’s all he had said at the time. ‘Yep’.

Rosa’s career-related thoughts stopped suddenly as she realized something. She’d heard someone mention resurrection before, hadn’t she? Gavin. When she’d, uh, killed him.

She hadn’t intended to, to be fair, but she really hadn’t had many other options while getting the life sucked out of her. He’d said that he had more than enough energy to bring himself back. Spiritual energy he’d stolen from innocent people like Jamie, and Tiffany, and Jeremy.

Which meant Joey... Had he been killing people? Every time she had her back turned, had he been sucking energy out of people? Waiting for his chance to revive himself so he wouldn’t have to be stuck as a spirit guide anymore? So there wasn’t a chance she could strand him in the void again?

She hadn’t meant to do that, either. If Gavin hadn’t controlled her so easily, she would’ve never...

Oh, Joey. Maybe this had been her fault all along. No wonder he didn’t want to talk about it. She sincerely doubted that he would kill, though. Maybe when Gavin’s soul had... disintegrated, the excess energy went somewhere. Maybe that somewhere was Joey. It made sense, if albeit only barely. He hadn’t even been with her when it had happened. But she just didn’t want to think about him like that, didn’t want to consider the possibility that the Joey she knew was nothing more than a farce. Maybe if she reframed the question, he’d be more willing to answer? She couldn’t do much more than wait at the moment, she supposed, sipping on her coffee. But, just in case, she looked over her shoulder to see if he was hovering around.

* * *

He’d run practically the entire way to Astoria, lungs burning from the exertion. It helped keep him warm, for the most part, at least. The snow was getting heavier, and it was becoming harder to see where he was going. And yet, the memories still served to be stronger.

The Pierro house. It looked about the same as the last time he’d been here, the only difference being that the snowman in the front looked more recently built. He jammed the key in the lock with admittedly little tact, fingertips turning blue from the cold.

The inside wasn’t any warmer, the same ghostly chill still hanging over the interior of the house, darkness swallowing his shape as he descended into the basement, trying to catch his breath. There was no reason to stop, no reason to look around. He’d seen it all already.

The shelf. She was hiding there, in a secret compartment. With Kendra. He ran up to it, banging on the wood hard enough to rub the skin off his knuckles. “Lia Pierro? I know you’re in there!”

A small panel opened in the wall, revealing a... he wasn’t really sure. A camera? At the moment he didn’t care. There just wasn’t enough time to.

“Who the _hell_ are you?” a voice hissed. Lia, for sure. She sounded just as happy as she had the first time around. “And before you get any funny ideas, I’ve got a gun pointed at your head.”

As if he was afraid of dying. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. “My name’s Joey. I know you’re looking for the Bestower. I know what you’re hiding from. And I know how to stop it.” He didn’t. Not really. Red had to die to stop Madeline. The only thing he could try to do now was to get a head start.

“You’re the Bestower?”

He bowed his head. “No. But I do know one thing. Whatever’s after you, it’s not after your daughter.”

“What? How can you be sure?”

“It’s only after the people who were in your Grace Group twenty years ago. Kendra’s soul is safe. I can take her to a hospital. She doesn’t need to die for this.” He had to get the little girl out of there. Had to get her to safety.

“You don’t have any proof,” she shot back, clearly defensive. A sentiment he understood.

“No. I don’t. But do you really want to bet your daughter’s life on this? Let me take her. Please.”

“You can’t,” Lia whispered, voice wavering. “You can’t do that. If I open that door-”

“Please, Lia,” he pressed, trying to reason with her. “Do it for your daughter.”

“No.” Her voice was nearly inaudible now. “You don’t understand. You can’t, because... because Kendra’s already... _she’s gone_.”

“What?” It felt like all the life had drained from him in an instant. “No... I thought there was time, I-“

“I just checked her pulse, just in case, but- She’s- she’s cold. She’s been cold. Since last night.”

If he’d just been a little faster, if he’d just-

He could still see her face, the innocent little eyes that had looked at him. The eerily calm acceptance of a reality most adults found hard to swallow. But that wouldn’t happen this time. Once she was dead, he couldn’t help her anymore. He didn’t know if _anyone_ could. She’d just be there. Playing the piano alone in her room for God knew how long. Never getting to show her dad the piece she’d learned.

“I’m sorry,” he mustered up. “I’m so, so sorry.”

There was a pause before Lia responded, the edge coming back into her voice. “If you’re not the Bestower, I’d like to be alone.”

“Yeah. I’ll go.”

He stumbled out of the basement, leaning heavily against the wall as he went back up the stairs. It felt like his knees were giving out under him. He had been too late. All the foresight in the world had hardly done a damn thing. What was going to become of him, then? What about Red?

A kid was dead. And he hadn’t stopped it. Hadn’t even been close. He paused in front of the front door, head bowed.

And as he pushed it open into the night, the familiar plunking sounds of a child playing piano gradually filled the empty house.


	3. A Bitter Cold

The walk back felt like an eternity. The snow kept coming down in earnest, clinging to his clothes, but he could hardly feel the cold. Everything was just numb. It had already been dark when he’d left the house, and ever since, he’d had no idea what time it was. Should’ve died wearing a wristwatch.

And then there was the question of what he was going back to. He’d never been away from her this long. Not since the day they'd been linked together. But things just had a way of changing, didn’t they?

And maybe this was just how it ended. Unceremoniously. She’d put up with him a little while longer, sure. Red was a patient woman. But everyone had a breaking point.

Maybe after all this time, she could get her life back on track, and he’d watch at the sidelines as she rose through the rafters. Rosangela Blackwell, renowned reporter, screenplay writer, TV personality.

She could always do it, after all. If it hadn’t been for him hanging around. If they hadn’t been busy hunting down spooks. Okay, maybe not that last one, but the point still stood. Maybe he’d even send her a letter once in a while, like the ancient fossil he was.

_‘Nobody sends letters anymore, Joey.’_

_‘What do you mean? What’s wrong with letters?’_

_‘Well, there’s no point when sending an email is so much quicker.’_

_‘Sending a what?’_

She insisted a lot that he had to be playing dumb. That there was no way he could’ve been around that long and not know a lick of technology. He’d politely reminded her that he’d spent the last twenty-five years trapped in a hospital room.

But maybe _sometimes_ he was playing dumb. He quirked up the side of his lips only to realize he couldn’t feel those either. And where even was he? Was that Central Park? This was the wrong side of Manhattan. How had he- What time was it?

“Hey, you,” he called out, attempting to flag down a pedestrian.

The man eyed him distastefully, pulling his coat tighter around himself.

God, he _wished_ he had a coat.

“Sorry. No change,” the stranger barked before rushing away into the night.

 _Change?_ Oh, _come on_. People these days. He shoved his hands further in his pockets, trying to warm them up in vain. They might as well have been two blocks of ice.

Home. He just had to get home. Had to... apologize. Probably twice, now. Once for running out. Another time for being gone all day. Yeah. That’s what he’d do.

The rest of the way he kept trying to formulate an apology in his head. Sorry for slamming the door in your face. Sorry for disappearing so suddenly. Sorry for not coming back sooner. Sorry for not saving that little girl.

Sorry for letting you die.

Nah, he couldn’t say it. Any of it, really. Maybe the part about being late. What time was it, again?

He entered the apartment building, taking the elevator back up to the fourth floor. Stopping in front of Red’s door, he grabbed the handle, pulling a key from his pocket. His fingers fumbled over it, trying to jam it into the lock. It wasn’t going in. Why wasn’t-

His eyes caught the keychain, the name written on the label. Lia. This was the key to the Pierro house.

He hadn’t taken the key to the apartment.

He stared helplessly at the door a moment, contemplating whether or not to knock. Never mind all the times he’d made fun of Red for getting stuck behind a locked door. He didn’t really deserve to get to knock. Not after the way he’d acted today. There was probably somewhere else he could spend the night. A homeless shelter, the apartment lobby if it came down to it. But before he could walk away, the door clicked unlocked, swinging open.

She was on the other side, dressed in pajamas, but didn’t seem to have slept. She’d probably been waiting.

“Red, I-“

She didn’t let him finish the sentence.

It took a moment for him to register what had actually happened, the strange constricting feeling around him. A hug. She was-

She stepped back suddenly, breaking the embrace, eyes wide. “You’re cold.”

When was the last time anyone had hugged him? Even when he’d been alive. Who even was the last person he’d hugged? His mother?

“Like _really_ cold,” she continued, hand reaching for his forehead. “How long were you outside?”

“I... don’t know,” he mumbled.

“And soaking wet,” she realized, grabbing his hand and dragging him inside. She sized him up for a moment, blinking a few times. “You’re, uh, you’re going to have to...”

“Hm?” It _was_ rather cold, wasn’t it? You’d think he’d be able to feel his hands by now.

“Joey, look at me.”

He frowned, the motion itself feeling unnatural. “Sure, darling, whatever you say.”

She looked awfully concerned. Was her hair always that red?

“You’re going to freeze if you don’t change.”

“Ah.” He slipped his tie off, a motion he’d done thousands of times, unaware of the fact he was still shaking. Technically her hair was orange, wasn’t it? It wasn’t _literally_ the color red.

“Joey.”

What? What was she still going on about? “Yeah?”

“I don’t think we’re going to go anywhere if I pull this.”

“What are you talking abou...” He looked down to see that he’d handed the other end of the tie to her.

_He’d walked over to her, tie hanging limply from his hand._

_‘Go on. Take it.’_

_She hadn’t responded. How could she have? She’d already been..._

_‘Take it!’_

“Joey?” She’d let go of the other end of the tie, waving a hand in his face. “Joey, if you don’t respond, I’m taking you back to Bellev-“

“I’m sorry,” he choked.

“What?”

“I’m _sorry_. ...should’ve never trusted her. Should’ve... been more careful.” Why had he just ripped her out of Red like that? He’d seen what had happened to the Countess. He knew what a gaping hole in someone’s head could do. He’d been impulsive. Careless.

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is,” Red said, gently trying to ease him out of his suit jacket, but he could see her frown deepening.

She knew, didn’t she? Knew he’d let her down. Nothing he could ever say would make up for...

“I kind of need you to cooperate, here,” she said, tugging at his jacket again. “You’re getting the couch wet.”

He shouldn’t have come back. Should’ve just faded away. Like his face in those old family photos.

“Look, I get that you’re not used to being alive, but could you _please_ stop trying to get yourself killed again immediately?”

“Yeah.” He blinked, shrugging out of the jacket. “Yeah. I can do that.”

He wasn’t really sure of the details. Couldn’t remember much at all. But at some point, she’d transformed him into a human burrito, wrapped in whatever warm thing the tiny apartment had to offer. She’d taken his temperature a few times, given him a steaming cup of... something.

He wasn’t stupid. He’d seen the coffee stains on that mug. There was no way he was drinking out of that. But she’d insisted anyway, and he’d taken a reluctant sip if only to humor her.

“This isn’t coffee,” he stated.

“It’s just water,” she replied, pulling her desk chair over. “The Internet said not to give you caffeine.”

“Right. The Internet. Of course.” It was always the Internet. She’d poke away at that little hunk of plastic and come away with the answers to everything.

“You should really learn to use it, Joey. Especially now that you’re alive.”

He scoffed. “What, and you’re gonna teach me?”

“I don’t think I have a choice,” she said, a hint of a smile on her lips. “No one else could put up with you.”

“Huh. Yeah. That’s... that’s me, alright.” What had Madeline said?

_‘Why you haven't driven your host completely mad is beyond me.’_

Ah, yeah. That’s what it’d been. And then he’d...

“Joey?”

Stupid. How could he have been so _stupid_?

“Joey, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d take it so hard.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have _anything_ to apologize for.”

* * *

This was bad. This was _really_ bad. Rosa didn’t even know where to start. She’d managed to get him out of his shirt after a lot of gentle prodding, but even that had been ridiculously difficult. He just sat there, a hollow look in his eyes, damp hair sticking to his forehead, shivering. He looked closer to dead than when he’d been a ghost.

And sure, hypothermia was one thing, but the way he’d been acting just rubbed her as _wrong_. He looked... broken. And she didn’t know what to do, let alone what to say. The questions just kept piling on, and yet she knew she couldn’t ask any of them, lest he break down any further. If he’d been out there for just another hour or two, they would’ve found him the next morning frozen to death somewhere. And no one else would’ve known he had ever existed.

Why had he gone out, anyway? What could’ve possibly taken that long? And what on earth could be so bad that he’d end up like this?

She checked his temperature one more time, just to make sure he was warming up. 96. It was improving, for sure. The shell-shocked look in his eyes was slowly fading, eyelids drooping from exhaustion.

“Come on. You need to rest.”

He shook his head. “Nn...”

Oh, he had to be kidding. “It’s just my bedroom. You’ve been in there before.”

“...been there... once.”

Yeah. She still remembered. It had been the middle of the night.

_‘Joey?’_

He’d poked his head in through the door, letting the rest of himself in when he saw how distraught she’d been.

_‘You okay?’_

_‘Yeah. I just... had a dream.’_

_‘Don’t let it get to you, kid. It wasn’t real.’_

_‘With everything we see every day, it’s hard to tell what is.’_

_'I know, Red. I know. I’m right here.'_

With enough prodding she finally got him to move to the bed, managing to slip his pants off as he fell onto it.

“This isn’t creepy. Not one bit,” she muttered to herself, bundling up the wet clothes.

“Keep... telling yourself that.”

She sighed, throwing another blanket over him. “Shut up. Go to sleep.”

Grabbing a bottle of detergent on the way, she went down to the laundry room, shoving his clothes into an open washer. But as she did, something small fell out of the pocket of his jacket, clattering on the floor.

She bent down, picking it up. A key? Where did he get this from? She started the machine, leaning back to inspect the key closer. There was a label with a name attached to the keyring. Lia. The back of the tag seemed to have had an address written on it, but it had long been soaked to the point of being unreadable.

Who on earth was Lia? And then there was the matter of what he’d said earlier. _‘I shouldn’t have trusted her.’_ Was the ‘her’ in question Lia? It wasn’t like she could ask Joey. On this one, she’d have to fly solo. She sighed, rubbing her eyes. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of two(?) chapter titles that pay homage to Return of the Obra Dinn! (I'm not sure about the number, I'm making these up as I go.) It's not related to the story or anything, I just really liked the game.


	4. Confrontation

Joey opened his eyes, trying to untangle himself from the ridiculous mess of blankets and other assorted things he was wrapped in. Jesus, was that a dish towel? What time was it? It felt like he’d been asleep for ages. He almost missed being dead.

When he finally managed to sit up, he spotted a note on the nightstand, set on top of his clothes, now dry and neatly folded. Well, wasn’t that a quaint little thing. And she'd said letters were...

_ ‘I would’ve texted you, but you don’t have a phone.’ _

Ah.

_ ‘Anyway, I got you some things. Use them. -Rosa.’ _

There was a key taped to the bottom of the note, and he tugged it off, smiling.  _ Okay, Red. I see how it is. _

He walked to the bathroom to see a small bag of toiletries set out for him, alongside another note.

_ ‘Shave.’ _

As if realizing something, he looked into the mirror, rubbing the two-day-old stubble on his chin thoughtfully. He’d forgotten that was a thing. It made a little more sense why he’d been pegged as homeless earlier.

After cleaning up, he got dressed, silently mulling over the fact that his shirt hadn’t been ironed. Not that he’d expected Red to own one in the first place, but a guy with one outfit could still try to keep a bit of decency.

With that aside, he was done mucking around. He was going to find Madeline and give her a piece of his mind. There had been too much death. Too many preventable losses. All because one crazy broad wanted to end her existence. Not that he really had any idea how to stop her, but at the very least, he could track her down. And he had a pretty good idea as to where she was.

* * *

“Where the  _ hell _ did you get this?” the man growled, hanging the key in Rosa’s face. Detective Sam Durkin. He’d made a bit of an alliance with her and Joey, sending her cases once in a while. It made her enough to pay the bills, though Joey would never cease to complain about it. Durkin was usually cool-headed. Indifferent. He definitely wasn’t now. What was  _ with _ this case? First all the stuff with Joey, and now this?

“Uh... I found it in the laundry room?” That wasn’t a lie. She did technically find it there.

Durkin shook his head, taking an extra-long puff on his cigarette. “Hell. You know I can arrest you for this.”

“I don’t really know what it is,” she admitted. She’d only shown it to him as a long shot, just in case he might’ve known something.

“You don’t know,” he stated back, unamused. “A key to the house of a woman who’s been missing for four days shows up in your hand, and you don’t know.”

Missing? Great. This just kept getting better. “I swear, I didn’t know who it belonged to.”

“Right. You even know who she is?”

Rosa shook her head. “No. I’ve got no idea.”

Durkin took another puff of his cigarette. “Good. Stay out of this one. I know I’m usually lenient about these sorts of things, but you don’t want any part of this. Trust me.” He threw the cigarette into the snow, snuffing it out with the bottom of his boot. “Don’t bring this up again.”

She turned away, shaking her head. There was no way she was leaving it there. The whole thing was just a little too fishy for her liking. And a bit too close to home, at that. She found a nearby bench to sit on before doing some careful web searches. If Durkin was touchy about Lia, there was a good chance she was a...

There we go. Detective Lia Pierro. Of this precinct, too. But what had Joey been doing at her place? She had to go investigate, but it was going to be a little trickier to find an address. There was probably a clue in the police station, not that she could go in to look or anything.

If only Joey was...

No. She shouldn’t think like that. It was good that he was alive. Even if she didn’t know why, it was a good thing. She just had to follow his tracks. And in this case, that meant finding out where Lia Pierro lived. Without any help.

_ Come on, Rosa. You can do this.  _ At least, she hoped so.

As if on cue, two police officers turned the corner, chatting to one another. After a moment they went out of sight but, somehow, remained within earshot.

“Any updates on the case?”

If luck would have it, they were talking about the Pierro case.

“Yeah. Ostin’s refusing to leave his apartment.”

“Seriously?”

“Uh huh. He keeps saying something about ‘being in danger’.”

“I mean his girlfriend’s missing. I think it’s warranted.”

That sounded like as much of a confirmation as she was going to get.

“I still think it was the ex-husband.”

“What, Emil ?”

“Yeah. Deadbeat dad trying to gain custody, working at some chain electronics store. Come on. The guy’s a joke.”

Rosa leaned in closer, frowning.

“Hey, I got my TV from the Abacus.”

“Look, I’m just saying. Haskins is pretty high on my personal list.”

“Well, luckily for him, we don’t make arrests based on ‘personal lists’.”

It almost felt too convenient, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Two names and a location. Not the location she’d wanted, but she probably wouldn’t have gotten anything better if she’d strolled into the station herself. And with just a search or two...

There. Looks like she was going to pay the Abacus a visit.

* * *

Red would’ve called him stupid. That running on his impulses was an unnecessary risk. And maybe she would’ve been right about that. Maybe he’d look back on this day and scold himself for it. But there was no time for that now. Not while Madeline was still around.

He did a button on his new coat as he left the apartment complex, honestly surprised it fit so well. It’d been by the door along with a hat, a few more sticky notes accompanying them.

_ ‘Wear this. It’s cold outside.’ _

_ ‘You looked weird without one.’ _

And he’d obliged. It would probably make Red happy. If she’d ever get the chance to see it.

He could see the church in the distance, each step forward feeling like marching toward his own execution. She was going to kill him, wasn’t she? Burn him to a crisp then tear his ghost apart. So why was he still moving forward? Maybe he just had to see for himself. And maybe, just  _ maybe _ , no matter how powerful Madeline could get...

Maybe he just wanted her gone more.

He walked past the main cathedral, making his way to the school. The front doors loomed imposingly over him, the solid wood having stood there for over a century. But even so, he had a feeling they were unlocked. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, pushing the doors open.

* * *

The Abacus was a small store, but lively, regardless. The displays of various kinds of electronic goods that lined the walls beeped and flashed at her, lights and colors filling the room. She took a moment to stare longingly at one of the television sets. If only she had enough money to replace the one in her apartment. But since she’d suddenly become the sole breadwinner for herself and the recently un-deceased...

She sighed, looking away. Another time.

The clerk looked up as she approached the counter. “Hey. Something I can do for you?”

“Yes, I was looking for Emil Haskins? Do you know if he’s in?”

“The manager? Nah, not at the moment. He’ll probably be back soon, though. He left his office door open.” He gestured toward it, and Rosa’s gaze trailed the motion to the door.

Open indeed. If only just barely.

“Would you mind if I took a look inside his office?”

The clerk raised an eyebrow. “Uh, are you allowed to do that?”

Rosa glanced at the office door again. “Sure.”

He sighed, shrugging. “Ah, whatever. Knock yourself out.”

The small office was mostly barren, with a few discarded papers and boxes here and there. The only thing of interest in the room was Emil’s desk, or, to be more specific, the computer on his desk. Rosa shook the mouse, clearing the screensaver away.

The desktop background was a photo of a man, maybe a decade or so older than her, a little girl perched on his shoulders. That was Emil and his daughter, she was guessing, glancing at the calendar he kept in the office. Every single weekend was blocked out with the same thing. The same name. Kendra.

She looked back at the photo. The father-daughter pair was in front of an apartment building, the plaque on the brownstones displaying its name. Exeter House. She supposed that was going to have to be her next stop.

* * *

Silence. The creak of old wood was the only thing Joey could hear as he entered the school. No sign of anything or anyone else, living or dead.

Right. He’d forgotten that he was a few weeks in the past. There was a chance that Michael wasn’t even here at all. He turned the corner to the room where they’d first found Father Michael, the purple glow of a protection circle nowhere to be seen. Great. Just his luck. He might have to go to-

“Who are you?”

Joey looked up to see the priest at the top of the staircase, pointing a pistol at him. Well, wasn’t that convenient.

“I said, who are you, and what are you doing here?” His voice took on a bit of a growl as he slowly descended.

But Joey didn’t care much for his act. “Relax, Michael. I’m not here for you.”

“Excuse me? How do you-“

“I’m looking for a friend of yours. Poofy hair, tacky little tiara...” He narrowed his eyes. “A few centuries old.”

Michael’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You mean Madeline? How on earth do you know about her?”

“Let’s just say we’re... acquainted.”

After a moment of hesitation, Michael turned his head, likely facing his guide as she entered. “Madeline? Who’s this?”

He was afraid. Of course he was. But it wasn’t Joey he needed to be afraid of. He followed the priest’s gaze to a particular blank spot of air, a sinister grin spreading across his face. “Hey, Maddy. How’s tricks?”

* * *

The man in front of Rosa was a far cry from the one she’d seen on that desktop background. Besides the fact he had significantly less hair, his entire appearance gave off a sense of defeat. He was dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants; he slouched when he moved. Dark circles lined the underside of his eyes, and his entire face had taken on a pallid appearance.

“Do you know something? Anything?” Emil pleaded, barely able to look her in the eye.

“Probably not more than you do at the moment. I’m sorry.” Rosa wished she could give him more. She really did. But she hardly knew why she was here in the first place.

“They think I did it, you know. The police. They think I’d-  _ God _ .” He rubbed his brow, shaking his head. “The last three days. It’s been nothing but interrogation after interrogation. But I sat there and took it. Just in case  _ something _ would help my little girl.”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t imagine having to go through that.”

“Yeah.” He blinked a few times, wiping his eyes. “So, if you don’t have information for me, why are you here?”

“I’m just trying to get to the bottom of things. Doing some investigative work.” It wasn’t a lie, and yet she felt bad saying it out loud. “Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

“Sure,” he said reluctantly, shrugging. “If it’ll help.”

“Has anyone come by recently to talk to you?” Maybe she could see if Joey had been here.

“No one else today. And I spent most of the last three at the police station. So I wouldn’t know.”

Hm. So most likely a no on that front. “So, Lia is your ex-wife?”

“Yeah. We were married for about ten years. In hindsight, it was a mistake, but I’d do it again if I had to. It was worth it for Kendra.”

She could understand the sentiment. Rosa didn’t have kids herself, but she understood. When she was younger, she would’ve given everything for another day with Auntie Lauren. It had taken her longer than she would’ve liked to admit to accept the fact she wasn’t going to just wake up someday. 

Rosa cleared her throat before asking the next question. “Would you happen to know an... Ostin?”

“George? Do I  _ know _ him? Lia  _ left _ me for him.” He sighed, twisting his mouth. “She knew him before she met me. From that church she used to be into.”

“Church?” Rosa questioned.

“Yeah. Grace Church, I think it was.”

* * *

“Surprised to see me, aren’t you?” Joey spat, pacing the room. “Of course you are. You probably want to know why I’m alive. Probably drooling at the thought of getting some of that for yourself, aren’t you? Because I was like you.” He stopped, frowning at the air again. “But you see, I’m not really in the mood for niceties today. You wanna know why? Because I know who you  _ really _ are. Playing Michael over there like a little pawn of yours. Making Red and I run around and gather up the souls of  _ his _ dead friends.”

“What?” Michael whispered, stunned.

“What do you think really happened to Jeffrey Dutta?” Joey asked, looking at him. “It wasn’t just some accident. His soul was harvested for energy. And  _ Maddy _ here will do whatever it takes to cease existing. She doesn’t care  _ who _ gets in the way.”

“She... she says you’re lying,” Michael said, finger never leaving the trigger.

Joey scoffed. “Patricia Blackwell. Lauren Blackwell. Rosa Blackwell. Those names sound familiar to you? Three generations of women. Gone. Because of you, Maddy. Are you proud of yourself?”

Michael was unnerved, eyes darting back and forth between his spirit guide and Joey. “She says she’s done nothing to your host.”

“Not yet, maybe. Not here. But I can see right through you, Madeline. Ghost business aside.” Joey looked back to Michael. “She’s using you, Michael. Whatever she tells you, I wouldn’t trust her. You know why? Because I saw her-“

“That’s quite enough, Mallone,” Michael’s mouth said, but his eyes had gone blank. Soulless.

What the hell? Since when could she...

“You want those souls spared? I can do that. I mean no harm.”

“Bull,” he hissed. “I saw what you did.” And what she was doing now. He didn’t like the way she was using Michael like that. It just reminded him of...

“Just tell me how you revived yourself. And I will leave you in peace.”

Joey laughed, his whole body shaking from the sheer irony of it all. “Never. Not in a million years. You don’t deserve it.”

Michael’s borrowed mouth was pressed into a hard line. “Do not forget who is holding the gun here.”

“Ah, right. The gun. The same one you used to shoot George Ostin? I suppose you haven’t. Not yet, anyway. I made sure of that.” He got closer to Michael’s face, sneering. “You know what I think, Maddy? I think that if I was still dead, I’d wring your damn neck myself.”

“...So be it.”

* * *

The rest of Rosa’s talk with Emil hadn’t been particularly fruitful, and now she was here, at the only place she could think of to go. Grace Church. She looked up at the doors, wondering. It seemed like a dead end. It really did. But there were barely any leads as it were. She had to take whatever she had.

Rosa walked up to the doors.  _ Okay. Here we- _

The sound of a gunshot rang out into the air. From nearby. The school. Rosa whipped her head toward it as people fled the scene. It was dangerous, probably. She shouldn’t be ten miles within a shooting. And yet, for some unfathomable reason, she found herself running toward the sound.

* * *

“Gah... you... you’re  _ insane _ ,” Joey spat, clutching his midriff as fresh blood ran freely through his fingers. “But  _ stupid _ ... too, you know?” He tried to prop himself up against the wall, looking at Madeline in Michael’s body. “Say what you want... about me. But I’m... not the one who just fired a gun in the middle of the afternoon.” God, this hurt. He’d rather get shot by a ghost bullet ten times than  _ this _ . “How long do you think before the... police get here? How long... do you think they’ll lock Michael up for?”

But his words didn’t seem to have much of an effect on Madeline. “At the very least, I will have ended you,” not-Michael hissed, walking toward him.

“You won’t,” he pointed out, trying to maintain pressure on the wound. “If I die... you’ll never- never know why I’m alive.”

He could see a break in her composure. Or Michael’s, he guessed. “No matter. It seems to have cost you greatly, regardless. You are no longer following that woman around like a stray dog.”

Joey winced, and this time it wasn’t from the bullet wound.

“So tell me, little ghost,” Madeline said, leaning in. “Where is your precious host now?”

The door slammed open, a certain redhead running in, hair flying wildly around her face. “She’s right here.”

_ Red? How the hell... _ He had to admit he was a little impressed, though. He never took her to be the type for dramatic entrances.

She scanned the scene, eyes widening when she saw him slumped against the wall. “Joey? Are you-“

“Get out of here! She’ll-“

“Blackwell.” Michael’s body turned to face her.

_ No. No! _

“Who are you?” Rosa questioned, frowning.

The possessed priest moved closer to her, each step ringing out on the hardwood floor. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

_ God, what are you doing? Get out of there! Get the hell- _

“I’m afraid I must depart. But we will meet again, I’m certain.”

Michael’s body took off running before either of them could react.

“Hey, wait!” Rosa yelled as he barreled past her, disappearing in the distance.

With the threat gone, she ran over to Joey, kneeling beside him. “Oh my God. Joey.”

“Hey, Red,” he managed to get out, smiling weakly. “I got shot.”

It must’ve looked bad. Her eyes were wide, shiny, gaze darting around over him like an overexcited housefly. He could still feel wet blood seeping through the cracks between his fingers. Apparently, he hadn’t done a very good job of stopping the bleeding.

Her hands shook as she tried to examine the wound. “This is a lot of blood.”

“Well, that’s... just...” He winced, taking a shuddering breath. “...dandy.”

“I don’t even know how to-“ She was panicking, running a hand through her hair. “I’m calling for an ambulance, okay? Just hold on. Please.”

He kept watching her face, eyes trailing her every movement. God, she’d really come, hadn’t she? And he hadn’t even... told her anything. She had... had that little metal box to her ear now... talking into it.

“Yes, my name’s Rosangela Blackwell, I’m at the Grace School. I need an ambulance. My friend-“ She glanced at him briefly before closing her eyes. “My friend’s been shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, the reason Emil's office door was open is because Joey didn't close it properly the day before, not because he actually went back to work at any point. Are things a little contrived in this chapter? Maybe. Did I need to get everyone from point A to point B? ...Maybe.


	5. Back to Bellevue

“I hate this hospital.”

Rosa sighed, looking up from the book she was reading. “Oh, good. I was getting worried. You hadn’t said that in the last five minutes.” It’d been two days since he’d been admitted, and he was already complaining her ears off.

“Why’d it have to be this place? First your grandmother, then your aunt, and now-“

“You?”

“Yes! I’ve spent enough time in this damn hospital for three lifetimes.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t get shot, then.” She looked back down, flipping a page. “Honestly, though, with the way you talk, I’m not surprised.”

Joey rolled his eyes and resumed staring at the ceiling, and Rosa looked back down at her book. It wasn’t anything she was particularly interested in, to be honest. Just some pulpy thing she’d grabbed from the lobby. But it made it look like she was doing something, at least.

She just couldn’t stop thinking about that last encounter. About the man that had shot Joey. Judging by how he’d been dressed, he was a priest? Why on earth would a priest shoot Joey? Sure, it wasn't like he was religious or anything, but even so, it didn’t exactly warrant shooting him.

On top of that, she’d never seen that man in her life. Yet... He clearly knew who she was. He even called her by name. Last name, anyway.

“Who was the man at the school? The one who shot you?”

One of Joey’s eyes twitched. “No one you should be concerned about.”

“He knew who I was,” she pointed out. “He knew who _you_ were.” She paused, studying his expression. And Joey knew who the man had been, too. The way he was hiding things, she was starting to think it was someone _she_ knew as well. Despite the fact that she’d never seen the man before.

Unless the man hadn’t been the one speaking at all.

“That was Madeline, wasn’t it?” Sure, it was a bit of a logical leap, but...

“Huh?” Joey blinked, looking back at her.

“The person we met at the school,” Rosa repeated. “That was Madeline.”

“How..?” He sighed, finally relenting. “Yeah. It was.”

“So, the man was...”

“Father Michael. He’s her new Bestower.”

Another Bestower? That was incredible. She could’ve met another person who was... well, she supposed not like her, after all. Not anymore, at least. “But Madeline was controlling him.”

“Yep. Like a puppet on a string.”

Possession? Was that something all spirit guides could do? “Does that mean you could’ve-“

“No,” he interjected before she could finish the question. “No, I couldn’t. And even if I could, I never would have. Just like you would never...” He trailed off, frowning.

“Joey?”

He shook his head. “Forget it. It’s nothing.”

“Is this about..?” When she’d abandoned him in the void.

“That never happened. I know what you’re thinking, and that never happened.”

“If you insist.”

“And insist I do, darling.”

“Hmph.” She put the book to the side, sighing. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

He averted his gaze, brow furrowing. “I thought I could keep you out of it.”

“Why? And how did you know all these things, anyway?”

He looked back at her, expression clouded. “Before I answer that, I need to ask you something.”

“What is it, Joey?”

He was grabbing handfuls of his sheets again, frown deepening. “Do you trust me?”

“What?” What kind of a question was that?

“I need to know, Red. What I’m about to tell you, it’s not easily digestible stuff. So before I do, I gotta know.”

“I-“ She stopped, looking at him. “Of course I do.” She sincerely hoped she wasn’t lying. The problem was, she wasn’t sure herself.

But the answer seemed to appease him, and he seemed to relax a bit, fingers uncurling as he gave a little nod. He took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m not... I’m not the same Joey you were with a week ago.”

She frowned, trying to process this. “Right, because you’re alive now.”

“No, not just that. I- I don’t really know why I’m here right now. You wanna know how I suddenly seem to know so much, even though I couldn’t leave your side? I know about Madeline and everyone else involved because I’ve seen it before. You and I, we went through it together. Doing what we do.”

Time travel? Was that a thing now? She supposed she’d seen some pretty insane things, but bending time itself was still a little out there. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re... well, you know.”

He was looking back down again, now. “I don’t think I’m ready to answer that one yet. Don’t know if I’ll ever be.”

“What could be so-“

“Don’t push it, Red.”

And they were back at the wall. She sighed, adjusting her glasses. “Fine. I’ve got another question for you, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Why did Madeline shoot you? I thought she was on our side. Didn’t she help you out of the void?”

He scoffed. “Yeah, I learned pretty quick that ‘our side’ only consists of you and me.”

“And yet you were trying to leave me behind.”

He pressed his lips together, looking away. When he spoke again, his voice had softened. “Madeline’s stealing spiritual energy. Like Gavin did. But she doesn’t just kill her victims, she rips their souls apart.”

Hm. She’d seen something like that. “When I was on the other side of the portal with Lisa and Gavin, his ghost, it- it dissolved.”

Joey shook his head. “Try a little more violently. Drawn-and-quartered kind of violent.” He involuntarily shuddered at the mental image. “We saw it happen four times. Right in front of us.”

Four. Four times. And they hadn’t been able to stop it? “Who were they?”

“Members of a group who used to meet at Grace Church. Ran by a guy named Benjiro, another one of those spiritual vampires. Whatever he did to them left their souls weak. And chock full of energy. Energy Madeline wanted so she could... so she could come back to life.”

He’d hesitated there. Was that a partial truth? Not the truth at all? “Why would she want that? I thought she liked being a spirit guide.”

“Keyword liked. She was trapped in that damn void for decades. As long as I’ve been- I _was_ dead. She wanted out of existence. And she thought the only way was to destroy other people to get it. A lot of people, Red. A whole damn lot. I wasn’t about to let her do it all over again.”

Rosa stopped to let it all sink in. She’d hoped... she’d _really_ hoped that after all this time there would be someone who could teach her the ropes. Someone who’d been through it all, someone who had the experience that she hadn’t had yet. Someone who could teach her all the intricacies of saving ghosts. But she guessed some things were a bit too good to be true.

“So, what’s our next step, then? And _don’t_ try to leave me out again.”

Joey chuckled bitterly. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve finally changed enough things that I’ve got no clue what happens next.” He leaned back against the headboard of his bed. “So we do what we always do.”

“Wing it?”

He caught her eye, grinning. “That’s my girl.”

* * *

She was asleep when he woke up, slumped in that uncomfortable looking chair. He should’ve asked her to go home. He’d been about to, but the words had never left his mouth. It was selfish, probably, but... he didn’t really want her to leave.

He supposed he was still tied to her after all. Maybe not the ‘bonded at the soul’ kind of tied, but emotionally?

Jesus, when had he become such a sap? And yet here he was. Staring. It wasn’t like there was anything more interesting in the room. He could make a bet on how many cracks were in that ceiling. If it was anything like the room Lauren had been stuck in, he already knew the answer.

He supposed that Red was in this whether he liked it or not. It was always going to be this way. He knew that. It wasn’t like Madeline didn’t know she existed.

But even so, he had to try. He had to do something, _anything_ to prevent-

There’d been a moment that day when he’d realized there had been nothing he could’ve done for her. That the only thing left had been to float at her side and watch her fall to her knees, hands clutching her head as the universe flooded in, drowning her. Knowing that she’d been about to die, and it had been his fault. Not directly, of course. 

He’d just made one too many mistakes. And he didn’t-

He didn’t want it to happen again. God, he’d take all the bullets in the world if he thought it would do something. _Anything_. His vision blurred with tears, and he blinked them away, frustrated. He couldn’t-

“...Joey?”

Her voice cut into the silence, snapping him out of his train of thought. He didn’t need to see her face to know what she was doing, her curious green eyes searching around. It was the same face she made whenever they started an investigation, except this time _he_ was the mystery. He set his jaw, trying to will the tears away in vain.

_Please don’t, Red. Don’t look at me. I don’t think I can keep this up anymore._

The chair creaked softly as she stood up, footsteps drawing nearer. He could feel her place a tentative hand on his back like she was afraid of how he’d react. “Something happened, didn’t it? With Madeline.” She paused for a moment. “Something happened to me.”

He couldn’t answer. If he did, his voice would break, and-

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him, and at that moment he broke down, sobbing into the embrace.

* * *

An hour later, things had settled down a bit. She’d ended up pulling the chair over, resting her head on his chest as he absentmindedly ran his fingers through her hair. It was weird, to say the least. They’d never actually touched one another before this, not that they could’ve anyway. But the contact was comforting, and since neither of them acknowledged it, they never moved apart. Not that he had a problem with that.

“We’re going to have to go shopping after this,” she said, half mumbling. Seemed like the lack of sleep was getting to her.

“You really need another gadget to play with?”

“Not for me. I’m not...” She yawned before settling her head back down. “...the one who ruined the only shirt they own.”

“It was a nice shirt,” he mused. “Lasted me nearly a century.”

“That doesn’t count. You were dead for most of that.”

“You just have to ruin everything, don’t you?”

“I’m just saying,” she mumbled, eyelids drooping shut. Okay, she’d definitely had enough.

He hated to break it up. He was happy. Genuinely happy. But his conscience was getting the better of him. “Red?”

“Yes, Joey?”

“You should go home. Get some sleep. I’m not dealing with you catching another cold because you decided to stick it out too long.”

She sighed. “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am, darling.” He nudged her gently, gritting his teeth a bit as the motion caused pain to ricochet from the area of the gunshot wound.

She got up reluctantly, lifting her glasses to rub her eyes. “You’ll be okay without me, right?”

“Yeah. All bets are off if I see Dr. Quentin, though,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, not breaking eye contact as she moved the chair back.

He scoffed, wincing again. Ow. “You think I wanna get locked up in the loony bin? Drop a few words about your aunt to the quack and you’d never see me again.”

She paused on her way to the door, looking back. “Shut up.”

“Well, if I did that, you’d have no one left to talk to.”

She shook her head, trying to stifle her smile. “Goodnight, Joey.”

And despite everything that had happened these past few days, he found himself smiling back. “Goodnight, Red.” He watched as she left, the door swinging shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some proper banter. Fun fact, one of the lines at the start was an inadvertent quote call back. [Timestamped Link](https://youtu.be/ehX4gUY_K3U?t=3039)  
> Makes me feel more clever than I actually am.


	6. A Semblance of a Plan

The sound of the door buzzer woke her up, the shrill noise ringing through the tiny apartment. Rosa looked at her phone briefly. Two in the morning? Really? Groggily, she dragged herself out of bed, walking to the intercom.

“...Hello?” It wasn’t like she was expecting anyone. She couldn’t even think of who it even might be.

“It’s Durkin. We need to talk.”

Oh, no. This couldn’t be anything good.

She buzzed him up, trying to make herself look at least somewhat presentable before the detective knocked on her door.

“Blackwell?” His voice called from the other side.

“Yeah.” She ran her hands a few more times through her hair before opening the door.

She was hoping he’d look more disheveled. It would at least make her feel a little better about the fact she’d just rolled out of bed. But he looked the same as always, mouth set in a hard line.

“You  _ do _ know what time it is, right?” she muttered, sighing.

“Cliché or not, Blackwell, crime doesn’t sleep,” the detective said, walking past her. “Do you know who shot your friend?”

Well,  _ technically _ she did, but that wasn’t information she was just going to offer. “Why do you want to know?”

“It’s my job,” he stated coolly, looking at her.

“I’ve got a feeling you already know the answer, and you’re only asking to see if  _ I _ do.”

Durkin’s stony demeanor didn’t change in the slightest. “Wouldn’t be able to tell you.”

She sighed. Of course not. “I don’t know his full name,” she offered. “But I know his name’s Michael.”

“Michael,” Durkin repeated.

“Yes.” He was just toying with her, wasn’t he? Trying to get her to crack. Even so, she didn’t like the idea of throwing Michael under the bus. He wasn’t responsible, technically speaking. But it wasn’t like the NYPD could arrest a ghost.

“And there’s nothing else you’ve got on the guy?”

“If you want information, you’d better ask Joey. I think he knows a little more than I do.”

Durkin narrowed his eyes. “The hospital staff weren’t too keen on that.”

Well, that explained it. She couldn’t imagine that Joey would’ve been very willing to cooperate, anyway. “He wouldn’t tell you anything, I’m guessing.”

Durkin sighed and rubbed his chin, confirming her suspicions. “Look, this case...” He trailed off, eyes going out of focus before he shook his head. “There’s been a casualty.”

“...What?” Someone was dead. Likely someone Madeline was hunting down. Whatever Joey thought he’d done, it didn’t seem to have worked.

“We think it’s the same perp. But the thing is, your friend was at the victim’s place a few days before he died.”

Rosa really did not like the direction this was heading. “And what, you want me to dig all the secrets out of him?”

“If that’s what it takes.” He pulled a cigarette out of a pack, wrinkling his nose before putting it back. “I’m not asking you anything. Not directly, at least. This case is a bit too high profile for that. But we might need a couple of extra eyes.”

“I’m not spying on him for you.”

“Again, I’m not asking you to.” He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his trench coat. “I’ve got some other things to take care of. Get some sleep, Blackwell. You look like you need it.”

“Well, I  _ was _ before you-“ She sighed, shaking her head. Oh, what was the point? “I’ll... talk to you later, then.”

He nodded, leaving without another word.

* * *

“Joey, I talked to Durkin last night,” Rosa said as she walked into his room the next morning.

“You too, huh?” He laid back, sighing. “Makes me miss being dead. At least the only one who could bug me then was you.”

“Did you tell him anything?”

He shot her a deadpan glare. “You think?”

Fair point. She’d assumed as much, anyway.

“I know you love the cops, but it’s not going to do us any good to share anything with them.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Think for a second, Red. If they find Michael, he gets locked up. Madeline included. Once that happens, there’s nothing we can do anymore. Maybe she’s in prison until the end of his life. Until the end of  _ our  _ lives, even. But then right after that, she goes back on her killing spree.”

“So we have to find her first.”

“That’s what I’m thinking.” He rubbed his brow, frowning. “Thing is, I’ve got no clue how we’re going to do that.”

“Well, maybe we don’t have to.”

“Huh? Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?”

“No. I mean- ugh. You showing up at the school gave Madeline a new piece of information. That another spirit guide has achieved exactly what she’s looking for. I’ve got a feeling she’ll be looking for us.”

His expression darkened. “Well, that’s just great, isn’t it? We’ll have to be prepared.”

“Yeah. So, how did you stop her?”

“What?”

“You said you’ve been through this before. That would imply that you’ve...” Oh. That wasn’t good. “You didn’t beat her.”

“No, we- we did. It’s just not something that can be replicated.”

“Right.” She wasn’t touching that one. “I guess I’ll do some research, then.”

“Uh huh.”

She recognized the look on his face. The expression of a man chained to one place, stuck. And Joey absolutely hated being stuck. The fact it was this hospital probably didn’t make it any better. “Are you doing alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, his tone coming off insincere. “At least I’ve got a bed here. Can’t say the same for your place.”

She couldn’t afford another bed, let alone have space to put it. And yet the words fell out of her mouth before she could think. “My bed’s a queen. We could always share.”

He didn’t respond immediately, face twisting up into some indescribable expression. Great, Rosa. Way to screw this one up. Just like every other person you’ve ever-

Joey burst into laughter, nearly choking on his own saliva before he could regain his bearings. “Wow, Red. Look at you. I-“ He could hardly get a word out.

“What? I was just...“

It took another moment before he could actually speak, chuckles still punctuating his words. “When I met you, you had to trick a dog into barking because you were too afraid to talk to your neighbor.”

Her face fell, cheeks burning. “I get it, okay? Just-“

“Hey.” He wasn’t smiling anymore, voice taking on a gentler tone than she’d ever heard. “That’s not what I meant. I... I’m not really good at talking about these kinds of things, but...” He sighed. “Look, even just a year ago, I was convinced you’d turn out to be a crazy cat lady. That you’d never catch the eye of a single guy because we’d always be running after spooks.”

Okay, she hadn’t been expecting  _ this _ .

“Oh, who am I kidding? You’ve  _ grown _ . More than your aunt ever did, anyway. Of course, she didn’t need to grow much to begin with, but...” He swung his legs over the side of the hospital bed.

“Wait, Joey, don’t. The nurse said-“

But her words clearly fell on deaf ears as he got up, walking over.

“You said once that you never got the chance to live because you spent all your time chasing the dead.”

Right. When she’d been getting mind-sucked by Gavin. It wasn’t something she was too keen on remembering. Especially since everything that had come out of her mouth had had some truth behind it. She’d said some pretty hurtful things, and though she hadn’t meant all of it, it wasn’t like his influence had her spewing nonsense.

Her train of thought was broken when Joey took her hands gently, looking into her eyes. “And I hate jumping to conclusions here, but maybe this is our chance. After we get done with all this Madeline stuff, anyway. Maybe this is our chance to live.”

“To live,” she echoed, still not sure what to make of the situation.

“Yeah. If you want, we could even get a cat. But just one. Any more, and I’m moving out.”

“My apartment complex charges a fee for keeping pets.” Otherwise, she might’ve gotten one earlier. But that was before Joey came into her life, anyway. She hadn’t kept a consistent enough schedule since.

He grinned, undeterred. “Maybe a hamster, then? Something small enough that we could hide.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Would that really be worth it, though?”

“Everything’s worth it with you, sweetheart,” he mumbled, gaze never leaving her eyes. “Except for that phone of yours. Who pays that much for a hunk of plastic?”

“You’d understand if you knew how to use it. And you don’t get to complain when you don’t have a job.”

“Last time I checked, neither do you.”

“I get paid.”

“Not consistently.”

She couldn’t argue with that one. “I’m still the one paying for the hospital bill. So lie down.”

He obliged, albeit with the smirk of someone who thinks they’ve won an argument plastered on his face. Absolutely insufferable.

* * *

Paranormal investigation. Rosa wanted to laugh just thinking about it. She’d spent a weekend inside with Joey once, when she’d caught a cold, watching old reruns of Ghost Hunters. ‘A bunch of kooks who’ve got no idea what they’re talking about’, Joey had dismissed it as. And sure, maybe he hadn’t been exactly wrong, but she’d found it entertaining nonetheless. It was interesting to see another perspective on what they did every day. On how people tried to find ghosts without being able to see them. She’d thought it had been hilarious the one time she’d looked back at him and pretended to panic about there being a ghost in her apartment.

Joey hadn’t found it nearly as funny.

And now here she was. Regardless of what they’d thought before, they had no special abilities this time around. So, in that way, she could appreciate the innovation of TV ghost hunters. And yet, she had a feeling that what they were doing wasn’t going to work for her and Joey. The TV ghosts weren’t exactly trying to kill people.

She still remembered one of the episodes they’d been watching, when something yellow had floated across the screen.

‘ _ You saw that, right?’ _

_ ‘Clear as day, darling. It’s a spook.’ _

_ ‘Do you think it’s the ghost they’re looking for? Or just another unlucky person?’ _

_ ‘No idea. You wanna go over there and check it out?’ _

_ ‘...Do you want to pay for the plane ticket?’ _

A ghost tour would’ve been fun. Though, to be honest, Rosa didn’t really want to know how messed up ghosts could get after haunting an area for an extended period of time. Maybe it was better to live in ignorance. She pulled out her phone, typing in a variety of search queries. Seeing ghosts, supernatural rituals... ouija boards. She couldn’t help but look over her shoulder briefly on that last one. He didn’t even have to be there for her to hear his voice nagging at her. But if she knew that using a ouija board actually had consequences, it was already more of a lead than mere superstition.

She glanced back at the African ghost drum she’d abandoned on an end table. The only reason  _ that _ thing would keep ghosts away was due to her horrid playing skills.

She looked back down, going through another page of web results.

Huh. There was a post on some supernatural forum here. By a... KevinH.

_ ‘I can tell you for a fact that these things work. My parents, they don’t like it when I talk about the supernatural, but that’s what the Internet is for, right? It’s supposed to be my turn to do the ritual soon, but I can’t help worrying if there are side effects. There’s gotta be, right? Nothing in life is that clean-cut. So if anyone knows anything about the Ba Jiao Gui or banana ghost, I’d really appreciate it.’ _

The rest of the thread was mostly meaningless conspiracy theories. But maybe it was worth looking into. With a few clicks, she made herself an account on the website, sending Kevin a message.

Only time would tell if that would pay off.

* * *

God, he  _ had _ to get out of here. There was absolutely nothing to do stuck in this damn bed. And he wasn’t about to start counting tiles again. Red had shown him how to use the TV remote, which was interesting for all about five seconds until he realized every channel just showed the same pointless drivel.

Never mind the fact that Ostin was dead. Michael had just strolled in and shot him in his apartment. Everything on camera. Madeline had to be getting desperate because that little stunt had gotten the entire police force on her tail. Meaning their time to act was short as it was.

A nurse walked into the room, wheeling one of those carts that carried the same tasteless food they always served at this damned place. An absolute delight.

“Hey, sweetheart, you got any idea how long I’m gonna have to be stuck here?”

The nurse glared at him. “Excuse me?”

It was a simple question. Why on earth was she acting like that? “What, I was-“

“You think your girlfriend would appreciate you talking to other women like that?”

“Huh?” It took a moment for her words to click. “What, you mean Red? Nah, we’re not-“ Were they? Even so, he couldn’t-

“Uh huh. Enjoy your meal. Also,” she looked down at her clipboard, “Joseph, you should be getting released tomorrow.”

Oh, come  _ on _ , he thought, watching her leave the room. And she thought what  _ he _ had called her was bad. He looked back down at the unappetizing tray in front of him. Meatloaf or something? He didn’t bother picking up the fork.

Dating Red? Nah, he couldn’t. That was just all kinds of wrong. Even if he ignored the fact he was technically old enough to be her great-grandfather.

_ That didn’t stop you with that college girl. _

_ That was different. And plus, we didn’t actually do anything. _

_ She was younger than Red. _

_ She was a spook! _

_ And that changes things? _

_ It didn’t have consequences! _

Consequences. Was that all he was afraid of? No. It wasn’t. Hell, he’d been around long enough to know he didn’t deserve her. If she knew what he’d done...

To be honest, she’d probably be fine with it, the idiot. Because that was just who she was. But  _ he _ wasn’t. No way in hell. How could he be? Despite whatever he may or may not have felt, he didn’t have the right to act on it.

“Hi.”

He looked up to see her suddenly standing in the doorway. Awkwardly. As per usual.

“I thought you might be getting lonely. Or maybe it was just me.”

Huh. Right. He’d usually get nights to himself when she slept, but for her, every waking moment she had him beside her. Or within close proximity, anyway. “You find anything on your little search?”

“Not much. I sent a message to someone on an occult board. A guy named Kevin.”

“You did  _ what _ ?” he exclaimed. Had the Deacon seriously not been enough? Was she really going to go and try to summon something? “Are you serious? How many times have I told you that messing with that kind of stuff-“

She waved him off. “I  _ know _ . But do you really see any other options here? Either we do something unconventional, (like what we do isn’t already unconventional), or we do nothing. And do you really want to take out chances with nothing?”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Then don’t. But we’re doing it anyway. Because we have to.”

Before he could get another word out, her phone went off, a high pitched beep filling the room.

“It’s him.”

He rolled his eyes. “Uh huh. And what does our little occultist have to say?”

“It says...” She squinted at her phone. “‘I noticed your location was also flagged as being in New York. Would it be possible to meet in person?’”

“Are we really doing this?”

“ _ You _ can do whatever you like.”

Hm. Snippy. He’d never say it to her face, but he loved it when she got like this. Reminded him of her aunt, that sort of fire in her eyes. The drive to action that his sarcasm could never snuff out. He cleared his throat. “Luckily for you, I’ve had about enough of this place. Tell him we’re free tomorrow.”

She smirked, tapping away at that phone of hers. There wasn’t much of a delay before it went off again. Red pulled up the message, reading it out loud. “‘Cool. Swing by the Dragon Tree Restaurant in Chinatown around 3 and we can discuss this further.’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably like the scene with Durkin more than I should. Also, if it was not heavily implied, the next two chapters will contain the Unavowed spoilers, specifically for the Chinatown mission! Consider yourselves warned. (The same mechanics will also apply to the ending of the story, so the chapters cannot simply be skipped :( )


	7. Chinatown

“This shirt is too big,” Joey muttered, trying to shove the excess fabric into his pants. “I look like I’m wearing a balloon.”

“Would you rather have it be too small?” Red replied, squinting at her phone again. Geez, did she ever look at anything else? “And I didn’t exactly have a lot of time for shopping. We can get you another one afterward.”

“The coat was the right size,” he mused, as they wound through the bustling streets of Chinatown. “You just nabbed this out of a donation bin, didn’t you?”

She shushed him, peering back at the screen. “I could’ve sworn we were going the right way.”

“Try using a paper map next time.”

She didn’t react to the comment, so he took the opportunity to take a better look around. The red paper lanterns that lined the streets popped out against the white snow that lay over everything in a thin sheet. Despite the cold, the walkways were constantly filled. A lot of old ladies with grocery bags. A young family, their baby reaching for one of the lanterns before getting placed into a stroller. Some teenagers laughed in a group, their backpacks filled to the brim with whatever they’d picked up on their trip.

There was a corner grocery shop nearby, a bright assortment of fruits and vegetables gleaming in its displays. A bakery lay just across the street from it. Its windows showcased elaborate cakes decorated with character likenesses they likely didn’t own the rights to sell. The door swung open, the smell of fresh-baked copyright infringements and other assorted goods wafting through the air as a child tottered out, dropping a bun on the sidewalk. Immediately, a horde of nearby pigeons rushed in to devour it, heads bobbing up and down as fast as they could move them.

And down the street, there was what looked to be... ah.

“Hey, Red?”

Her eyes were still glued to the hunk of metal. “Not now, Joey. I just gotta... ugh! Why does the app want to update _now_?”

He looked back at the building, carved wooden dragons snaking around the pillars. “I _really_ think you should see this.”

“Joey-“ She paused, expression falling. “It’s the restaurant, isn’t it?”

He grinned back at her. “I knew you’d get it eventually.”

She sighed in defeat, pocketing her phone. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“After you, doll.”

The restaurant was fairly quiet at this time of day, with the lunch rush having ended. There were still a few people at tables, but there was a distinct lack of the hubbub you’d usually associate with a large Chinese restaurant.

A young man exited the kitchen, walking over. He looked maybe in his late teens, early twenties at most. Scrawny looking kid, but evidently hard-working. He had a small towel slung over his shoulder, and was still wearing an apron, stained with what appeared to be a coating of flour.

“Hey. Are you Rosangela?”

She nodded, shaking his hand. “Rosa’s fine.

“Kevin Huang. Who’s your friend?” He gestured his head toward Joey.

“Joey Mallone,” he said, nodding in greeting.

“So what are you guys?” Kevin questioned, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Like paranormal enthusiasts, or..?”

“We’re trying to hunt something down,” Red explained. “A malevolent spirit.”

The kid’s eyebrows raised. “Um... that _might_ be a little above my pay grade. Unless knowing how to make really good Chinese food has anything to do with this.”

Joey’s stomach rumbled at the idea. Maybe he should’ve eaten more of that hospital junk.

“It doesn’t,” Red continued. “But I was wondering about what you wrote on your forum post.”

Joey nodded. “Your folks know how to summon a ghost, huh?”

“Shhh!” Kevin’s eyes went wide, finger to his lips. “Not here. Not where my parents can hear, okay? Just, uh, follow me.”

He led them upstairs into a small apartment, switching on the light. Huh. Quaint little place. Had a cozy, lived-in feel to it. Brightly colored paint. More tasteful than whatever Red had up. A row of family portraits hung on the wall, and Joey scanned over them. A buck-toothed younger Kevin gleefully grinning at the camera as what was presumably his father helped him carry a massive fish. His mother in the kitchen, a slightly older Kevin studying her every move.

The three-dimensional Kevin in the room walked over to a dresser, picking a hefty book off the top of it. “Here. This is a book my parents always kept. It’s uh, an encyclopedia I guess. Of Chinese mythos.” He sat on the couch, gesturing for the two guests to do the same.

Geez. Joey really hoped they hadn’t just walked into a book club. They didn’t have enough time for that.

Kevin flipped through the book, stopping when he reached the page he was looking for. “For nearly a century, my family has been summoning the Ba Jiao Gui for financial help. Once every decade, someone does the ritual, takes a sleeping aid, then asks the dragon for lottery numbers.”

“Dragon?” Rosa asked.

Kevin nodded. “The spirit takes the form of a dragon. According to my dad, anyway.”

A dragon spirit was still better than no spirits at all. Maybe it could help. For a moment, Joey savored the idea of Madeline getting bitten in half by a dragon. God, after everything she’d done... “So, theoretically, if we were to do this ritual...”

“You can’t do that,” Kevin gasped, eyes going wide. “It’s not time yet. You’ve got to wait for a decade to pass.” He stopped, wiping his forehead with his hand. “Sorry. That was a little extreme. The legend says that if you ask for fortune too often, the dragon will doom you to a terrible death.”

Been there, done that. Not that he actually _wanted_ to do it again.

“But we’re not looking for lottery numbers,” Red continued. “Maybe the dragon would make an exception?”

Kevin was baffled. “Man, you guys _really_ want to get killed, don’t you?”

“That’s what I keep telling her,” Joey muttered, only to earn himself a jab in the ribs. “Ow!”

“It’s the best shot we have.” She smirked at him, adjusting her glasses. “Also, I’m so glad I can do that now.”

“What, cause me physical pain?” He rubbed the spot indignantly. “Don’t answer that.”

She chuckled. “I’ll make sure to aim for the bullet wound next time.”

Kevin ran a hand through his hair, eyes shining with concern. “I mean, I can ask my dad for permission, but it’s a long shot. Why is this so important, anyway?”

Joey looked over at Red, making eye contact. She shrugged, nearly imperceptibly. Yeah. That’s about how he felt. They’d be dragging a kid into something that was way over his head.

“Something bigger is at stake,” she said eventually, looking back.

Kevin blinked a few times. “Yeah, I’m, uh, gonna have to know more than that if I’m putting my family at risk.”

“I know that this isn’t easy for you,” Red started, in that diplomatic way of hers. “You don’t know us, and we’re asking a lot from you.”

“No, I _don’t_ know you, and you don’t really know what you’re asking,” he growled, standing up. “Do you have any idea-“

Joey stood up as well, cutting him off. “Take it this way, kid. If you don’t help us, this ghost we’re chasing could flatten the city and everyone in it. This is a lot bigger than you and your family.”

“I-“ Kevin’s expression faltered. “Promise me you’re not kidding. Or crazy.”

“Pinky,” Joey said, extending the digit. Hesitantly, Kevin extended his own finger, and they shook on it. Huh. Rough hands for a kid. Probably spent all day working in that kitchen.

Kevin took a deep breath, fingers idly tapping on his thighs. “Fine. Then I’ve got one more thing to show you.”

They followed the kid out to a balcony, where an impressively large greenhouse sat, filled to the brim with plants of various colors and sizes. _Vegetables_ , Joey realized, scanning them over. The Huangs must have grown their stuff in-house. He had to admit it was pretty impressive. Cost-efficient, too. As they entered the greenhouse, there was one thing that was strikingly apparent. He could hear Red give out a little gasp as she saw it too.

A banana tree, its leaves impossibly green and vibrant, stood in the center of the room. It almost looked like it was glowing in comparison to the other plants. Around its trunk a single loop of bright red string was tied, the rest of it pooled on the ground around the tree’s pot.

“I’m going to talk to my dad,” Kevin said, stepping back. “Just, uh, hang tight.”

It wasn’t long after Kevin left before Red spoke again. “Joey?”

He quirked up an eyebrow. “Something you wanted to say?”

She had that look in her eye again. Nose wrinkled up, eyes narrowed. Whatever was coming out of her mouth next, it wasn’t good.

“Was what you told Kevin true? About Madeline destroying the city.”

Yep. He should’ve known. “It’s not important.”

“Joey, we talked about this.”

He gritted his teeth, averting his eyes. Yeah. He supposed they had. “She was desperate. It didn’t happen. We didn’t let her.”

“Desperate,” Red echoed, her frown deepening.

The snow had started coming down again, errant flakes sticking to the glass walls of the greenhouse. “She wanted to destroy herself so badly she was willing to kill millions of people to do it.”

They stood there in silence, both gazing out the walls as the falling snow absorbed the city ambiance.

“What about you, Joey? Have you ever felt like that?”

“Maybe with your grandma,” he chuckled, before his expression went serious again. “No. Never.” _I made you a promise when you were dying in the snow. You didn’t let me get the chance to keep it._

He blinked a few times, looking away to try to find something to distract himself with. A piece of worn parchment tacked to the wall caught his eye, the yellowed corners of the paper fluttering gently in the drafts that snuck in through the cracks around the door. A list of names and dates, back to 1927. Huh. “Kevin wasn’t kidding when he said his family’s been doing this for nearly a century. The first entry’s from before I died.”

“That’s how you _know_ it’s old,” Red jabbed, grinning that stupid little grin of hers. He’d heard so many awful jokes accompanied by that face. And yet, never _too_ many. Not with her.

He realized he’d been staring a little too long when she gave him a quizzical look, tilting her head. Turning back to the parchment, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Going off of what the kid said earlier,” he said, looking down the list, “we’re three years early.”

Red sighed, looking at the banana tree. “This dragon isn’t going to be happy to see us.”

Joey scoffed. “You think?”

“Just once, Joey. Just once, I want to go somewhere and have someone be happy to see me. Is that too much to ask for?”

“Here,” he offered. “You can step outside, and I’ll turn around, and when you come back in I’ll smile at you.”

She pouted at the idea. “It’s cold outside.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Don’t say I didn’t offer.”

She crossed her arms, looking away. “I wonder what’s taking them so long.”

“Eh, maybe they’re hoping we freeze to death before they get back.” But as the words left his mouth, he could already see Kevin and his father walking toward them. The older man entered the greenhouse first, looking over him and Red with an eye of great scrutiny.

“You want to summon the Ba Jiao Gui?”

He wasn’t a particularly large man, Joey had a few inches over him, but he held his head high in pride, making up for stature in expression. There was a sharp wisdom in his eyes, knowledge Joey suspected extended beyond Chinese cuisine.

Joey rolled his shoulders. “Well, _want_ is kind of a strong word-“

“Yes,” Red cut in, determined. “We don’t have much of a choice in the matter. I hope you can understand that.”

Kevin’s father narrowed his eyes. “I understand that you are putting my family in danger.”

“You’re already in danger,” Joey said. “Everyone in this city is already in danger!”

But whatever they dished out, the elder Huang wasn’t buying. “You are telling me to believe you. Two strangers on my rooftop.”

“We don’t mean any harm,” Red continued. “We’re not looking for money. We just want to talk to the dragon.”

“Hmph.” He crossed his arms. “Fine. Come back in three years. I let you talk to the dragon.”

Yeah, that wasn’t going to cut it. Joey cleared his throat. “So, I hate to break it to you, but this is kinda time-sensitive. We’ve got days. At best. And you don’t need to believe me, but when what we’re up against ends up killing everyone, that’ll be on your hands.”

Kevin’s father’s frown only grew deeper, posture more rigid. After a moment of contemplation, he turned to his son. “What do you think, Kevin?”

“Me?” The kid didn’t really know how to react, looking between the visitors and his father.

“You brought them here. What do you think is best?”

Kevin gave them a long stare, expression clouded.

_Come on, kid. World’s ending. We don’t have all day._

“Give them a chance,” he said, sighing.

His father nodded. “Very well, then. Follow me.”

He led them back to the living room, seating them before leaving and returning with two steaming cups of what looked to be tea.

“You drink these. Then sleep in the bed in the other room.” He set the tray down, sighing. “Good luck.” With that, he headed back to the roof, while Kevin went downstairs.

Joey picked up a cup, raising it in a mock toast. “Ten bucks says this is poison.”

Red wasn’t amused at the notion. “Joey, they own a _restaurant_.”

“Twenty?”

“Joey.”

“Hey, you’re not drinking from it.”

“I’m trying to prepare myself,” she chided, examining the purple liquid in the cup. “Who knows what we could see?”

“A dragon, I’d presume?” To say he wasn’t nervous as well would be a lie, and yet... “Bottoms up, Red.” He lifted the cup to his lips, drinking the whole thing in one go. Thankfully, it wasn’t hot enough to burn his tongue, or else he would’ve looked kind of stupid.

After a moment of hesitation, Red followed suit, downing her cup. “Come on. We’d better lie down before it kicks in.”

“Ah, so you _do_ admit it’s poison.”

She rolled her eyes, grabbing his tie and dragging him into the room.

“You know you can touch my hands now, right?” he protested, the door shutting behind them. Whatever he wanted to say next caught in his throat when their eyes met, bodies only a foot apart. _Focus. You gotta focus_. But he didn’t want to. He held her gaze for a single indulgent second longer before breaking it to examine the room. The sliding door on the other side of it had been cracked open, the length of red string that slipped through from the roof leading to the foot of the bed.

She let the tie slip out of her hands, eyes lingering on him for just another moment before she took a seat at the side of the bed.

Taking a deep breath, he tucked his tie back into his jacket before reclining on the opposite side, hands behind his head. “So, how long do you think before...”

Whoa. He blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden onset of drowsiness. It was like he got hit with a sack of bricks, like he was trying to think through some sort of thick sludge. When he looked over at Red, she was already curled up, out cold, and he could hardly... keep his eyes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: The Chinatown description here is based on the one in San Francisco, as I've never been to the one in Manhattan. I'd like to think it's somewhat similar, though. Just like the next chapter, this one is just one long continuous scene.


	8. Enter the Dragon

Rosa sat up with a gasp, hair flying around her face. She brushed it out of the way, eyes wide. Everything was red. Bright red, like she was looking through the red half of a pair of 3D glasses. She took her own glasses off, just in case, but that didn’t do anything other than make everything a slightly blurrier red. Great.

Joey was still asleep, turned away from her, and she grabbed his shoulder, shaking him. “Joey.”

He barely stirred, mumbling something unintelligible, so she tried again, a little more forcefully. “Joey!”

“Huh?” He sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes. “What is it?” He blinked, looking around. “Ah. Yeah, that’s not quite right.”

“No. It’s not.”

He got up, stretching his back. “Guess we’d better head back up to the roof and talk to that dragon.”

“How are you so nonchalant about this?” she questioned as she walked to the door.

A shrug. “Well, there’s no use screaming about it, is there?”

She sighed, reaching for the handle, only for her hand to bounce straight off of it. “Um. Joey?”

He walked over, curious, as she tried it again. Nope. She couldn’t even touch the door itself. It was like there was a force field preventing the contact.

Behind her, she could hear him start chuckling, before he was full out laughing, hands on his knees.

“This isn’t funny.”

“You should’ve seen your face!” he exclaimed, completely beside himself.

Rosa tried touching a few other things in the room, all to the same result. She couldn’t touch any of it. Her chest tightened as a horrible realization gradually set in. “Joey, we’re not dead, are we?”

He stopped laughing nearly instantly. “No. I don’t think so,” he said, walking up to the door. “Not exactly.”

“‘Not exactly’?” Well, that wasn’t comforting in the least. For all she knew, the tea could’ve been poison after all, and now she owed him twenty dollars.

“The world wasn’t monochromatic when I was dead, for one thing. But I think I can...” He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the door as he raised a hand. And as he did so, Rosa could see a faint blue glow start emanating from his tie. The way it’d always looked when he’d handed it to her before. When he was... The glow grew brighter, light reflecting off his face as he stepped forward.

“Joey?” she called out, but he either didn’t hear or didn’t react, because he kept moving forward, phasing through the door entirely. Rosa walked back to it, hand getting deflected away once again as she slammed her palm into the wood. “Joey!” He wasn’t seriously going to leave her here, was he?

It was another moment before she saw his hand stick through offering the end of his tie, still glowing.

“Grab on.”

When she obliged, he pulled it and she went flying through to the other side of the door, breathless. “How did you...?”

He was already tying it back around his neck, shrugging. “You know, I have no idea.”

“Are you sure you’re not dead?”

He tilted his head as he finished tucking the tie in. “Do I look dead?”

At the request, she examined him more closely. He looked about the same as he had earlier, albeit, with the same red tint as everything else in the world, herself included. And now that he’d replaced the tie, nothing about him was glowing, or even remotely ethereal-like. “No,” she answered honestly. “You don’t.”

“Yeah, that’s about what I figured.” He was shifting around a little, clearly bothered by this development. But, in typical Joey fashion, he refused to acknowledge it, instead turning away to walk to the stairs. Rosa sighed yet again, following him. It wasn’t like she had another choice, did she?

Halfway up the flight of stairs, he stopped suddenly, Rosa bumping straight into him. “Joey!”

But he might’ve been a stone slab blocking the doorway, frozen in place. She had to nudge him another two times before he even said anything.

“Jesus...” He finally stumbled forward, giving Rosa enough room to squeeze past and be met by the glistening teeth of a 60-foot dragon.

Her eyes shone like orange coals, gleaming under the unnaturally red sky. Long, golden whiskers trembled delicately as she breathed, her pitch-black snakelike body coiling around the building like a boa about to strike. As she lowered her head toward them, great clouds of steam escaped her nostrils, the glow in her eyes brightening.

Why couldn’t it have been a cute, pocket-sized dragon? It was just their luck, wasn’t it? Rosa cleared her throat, trying to stifle the sudden dryness in her mouth. “Um... hi?”

Next to her, Joey snorted. “Is that really the best you could come up with? ‘Hi’?”

Seriously? Was now really the best time for this? “What, do you have something better?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe something like ‘please don’t eat us’, or-“

“Silence!” the dragon roared, clouds of vapor escaping her gaping maw as the door slammed shut behind them. “Why have you summoned me here? Is there no end to you humans’ greed?”

Joey stepped forward. “We just wanted to have a little chat.”

The dragon narrowed her eyes, leaning in. “There is no reason for idle conversation, human.”

“On the contrary, I think there’s plenty reason. You see,” he continued, shoving his hands in his pockets, “we’re chasing a ghost.”

How on earth was he so calm about this? Rosa looked back and forth between them, dumbfounded. That was a dragon. That snout could probably swallow her whole. And he was just standing there. Chattering away. Like they weren’t in mortal danger.

The dragon blinked. “A ghost.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. A spirit guide. Trying to bend the rules of reality.” He examined the dragon closely, refusing to back down. “But I get it, yeah? I should play to my audience. Don’t think you’re the moral type.” He tipped his hat at her, grinning.

Okay, now she was getting concerned. He didn’t have a clue what he was doing, did he?

“You are one to speak of rules,” the dragon hissed, a low growl in her voice. “I can sense it, human.”

Joey’s smile no longer reached his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”

But Rosa might’ve had an idea. Whatever brought him back didn’t seem to have been seamless. ‘Residual dead’ sounded stupid in her head, but...

The growl in the dragon’s throat grew louder. “There is something wrong about you. Something... unacceptable.”

Joey wasn’t smiling at all, now. “This isn’t about me. We came here looking for help. Either you’re with us, or you’re not.”

This wasn’t going well. This wasn’t going well _at all_. Rosa was nearly convinced she was going to see him get snapped in two, and then his stupid ghost would be stuck haunting this roof for the rest of eternity.

“I really don’t think you should be trying to give an ultimatum to a dragon,” she said, inching closer to him.

“Relax, Red, I’ve got this,” he insisted.

He definitely did not have it. If it was possible, the dragon only looked more agitated. “She’s going to _eat_ you.”

Joey shrugged. “It’s nothing we can’t handle.”

Hang on, now. ‘We’? “You are _not_ dragging me into this. I don’t know about you, but I _like_ being alive.”

He blinked, his air of confidence fading. “Yeah, I...” He was distracted suddenly, looking away. When he turned back to the dragon, he was hardly making eye contact. “I don’t really know what you are, or what you can even do. But we’re up against something big, and I don’t know how to stop it. So, I’m asking for help. If you want to eat me or smite me on the spot, so be it. Just... leave Red out of it.”

What? This wasn’t like him. “Joey-“

His eyes were burning with intensity when he looked back at her. “I’m not backing down on this one.”

“Well, I’m not letting you do this alone,” she shot back. “We’re supposed to be a team.”

“You just said-“

“I was _joking_. What the hell is up with you?”

“I’m _trying_ to protect you.” He looked so small uttering those words, a quiver in his voice. She wished she knew what he was thinking. The next thing she knew, he might... relapse again, and this was neither the time nor place for that.

She walked closer, shaking her head. “And who’s supposed to protect you?”

He turned away, pained. “I’ll manage.”

He really wasn’t managing anything well either. He wasn’t looking at her, or the dragon, or anything, really. Rosa was honestly surprised they _hadn’t_ been eaten yet. Standing here bickering in front of an ancient being.

She looked back at the dragon, whose eyes flickered with a morbid curiosity like she was watching rats in a glass cage.

“How fascinating,” she eventually hissed, lips pulled back to show off her rows of razor-sharp teeth. “I have no interest in intervening in your... situation. You will have to seek aid elsewhere.”

Rosa glanced back at Joey a moment, but he seemed to have gone practically catatonic, unmoving from the corner he’d situated himself in. So much for protecting her. But as soon as the thought appeared in her head, she heard him speak.

“No.” He walked back up to the dragon, trembling with rage. His tie was glowing again, brighter this time. “We didn’t come this far for nothing. We-“ His gaze caught on the tie, expression darkening. “Damn it!“ He ripped it off, throwing it to the ground as he stormed away. Rosa could briefly see it snap back around his neck before he phased through the door, disappearing from view.

She’d have to deal with him later. “I’m sorry,” she said, honestly taken aback by the absurdity of it all. She was apologizing to a dragon. A dragon. “He isn’t usually like this.”

“Then bother me no further,” the dragon growled. “I long to rid myself of this dead place.”

“... dead place?” So they _were_ dead?

“You do not sense it, mortal? Surely something feels wrong to you.”

Uh. Besides the fact that after they leave her vision was going to be blue-shifted for hours? If they even _could_ leave now. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

The dragon was not amused, smoke trailing from her nostrils. “Foolish human. We are both trapped. Between the realms of the living and that of the spiritual.”

Okay. So they weren’t dead. That was good.

“I wish to return to my realm if you would allow it.”

Uh. Her? Rosa wasn’t about to argue, lest the dragon suddenly change her mind about eating her, but the request did come off as a little odd. “You’re free to go.”

“Thank you.” At those words, the dragon faded from view, black smoke trailing around her shape as she disappeared.

 _Congratulations, Rosa. You’re not dead._ She sighed, moving her glasses to rub her eyes. Was that really how low the bar was these days? God, she could really go for a coffee right about now. And yet, there was still the matter of... Her gaze trailed back to the door. A door she couldn’t touch. She walked up to it, trying to see if she could hear anything.

“Joey? Are you there?” If he was, he didn’t respond. And she knew him well enough to know that it was probably no use to try again. Well, then. It looked like it was just her and this rooftop. For the next forever. She sat on the curb, gazing at the neon red of the sky, little specks of white falling from it. Letting the dragon leave hadn’t changed _that_ one bit.

At least now she had the chance to reflect on things a little. Okay. So they’d summoned a dragon, were somehow trapped between the living and the dead, Joey had ghost powers somehow, and he was also currently incredibly upset. He’d turned on a dime back then, his usual cocky demeanor shedding in an instant. And she’d been doing what she always did. Trying to keep him in check. It was a little harder now that he could actually get hurt. And die. She glanced back at the door.

First, he’d caught hypothermia nearly bad enough for her to take him to the hospital. Then, he’d gotten shot and had needed to go to the hospital anyway, and now he was flaunting his life around like an offering. Like he didn’t care in the least whether he lived or not. For someone who’d been dead for so long...

Everything would be fine once they sorted things with Madeline, right? She ran a hand through her hair, a few defiant locks falling back over her face. Right? The snow kept falling in all vigor, and she brushed a collection of flakes off her shoulder absentmindedly. Strange. She didn’t feel nearly as cold as she should have. It was probably for the better. Otherwise, she’d have to worry about freezing before Joey got back.

He _was_ coming back, right? It’s not like he had any better of an idea on how to leave this realm. Rosa sighed, her breath a wispy puff in the cold air. Maybe it was better to not think about it at all. Maybe she could just think about her next coffee order. Vanilla latte? Was vanilla too plain after what they’d just gone through? Maybe peppermint. The holiday specials hadn’t ended yet, had they? Honestly, anything warm would’ve been nice right about now. Not freezing to death didn’t mean she didn’t feel the cold at all. 

They’d been lucky the dragon hadn’t been angrier. Joey had really shut down- and she was thinking about him again. Damn it.

A hot shower, and a nice cup of coffee. She still had some instant packets somewhere in the kitchen. They probably hadn’t gone bad. Did that kind of stuff even go bad? She’d curl up in front of the TV with a blanket, and put on a meaningless drama. Yeah. And Joey would be normal. Just normal. They’d bicker about how stupid the main character was, and which love interest would be better for her in the end. He’d scowl the entire time, pretending to not be having a good time. But Rosa knew better. She always knew.

A piece of fabric was dangling in her face. It took her a second to recognize it as the limp end of Joey’s tie. Her gaze followed it up, looking up at him. He wasn’t looking back, the only acknowledgment of her presence being his outstretched arm offering the tie.

His face was flushed, eyes puffy, cheeks wet. She didn’t really have to guess why he wasn’t making eye contact. He was probably barely holding it together as it was.

The end of the tie dangled loosely in the slight breeze, but she decided to set her sights just a little higher. Standing up, she grabbed his hand.

His face twitched in surprised, eyes darting back to look at her for a moment before looking away again.

“I can touch your hands now, remember?” she said, offering a smile.

He didn’t respond, fingers silently curling around her hand, squeezing just a bit tighter than he probably should be. She wasn’t about to mention it, though. He led her back through the door, into the bedroom they’d started in. She glanced briefly at the bed. Maybe they just had to go back to-

“I tried that already,” he said, voice sounding a little worse for wear.

“Right.” She looked back at him, hands shoved back into his pockets, in an unsuccessful attempt to look more collected. Or maybe it was just a comforting habit. Rosa didn’t know at this point. She wished she knew the right thing to say. Instead, the only thing that came out of her mouth was “I was starting to think you weren’t coming back.”

He didn’t respond immediately, body half turned away. “You needed me.”

She’d been out there for nearly an hour. But she wasn’t exactly about to say that, either. Cautiously, she took a seat on the bed, surprised it didn’t try to repel her like everything else in the world at the moment. And every _one_ , she noted, looking back at Joey.

He was shifting around a little, expression clouded. “Are you... holding up okay? I know I left you hanging for a while there.”

Was he seriously...? “I’m fine. Are you?”

“I-“ He put a hand to his forehead, pushing his hat up a bit. “I’ll...”

“You can talk to me, you know.”

He was still staring at the floor. “I appreciate the offer, Red, but... I’ll be okay.”

She knew it had likely been a futile attempt, but for a second there she had genuinely thought he was going to say something of actual content, for once. Did he seriously still believe the nonsense he was saying?

“Not at the rate you’re going.”

He flinched but otherwise didn’t respond.

“Joey, you’ve got to stop acting like you’re still dead, or you’ll end up killing yourself.”

“You don’t think I know that?” he snapped, looking up suddenly. “I’m-“ He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “We’ve got a job to finish, and I’m sure as hell not going to let you do it alone. I’m with you, Red. To the end, I’m with you.”

“And after?”

He was silent again for a moment at that. “I don’t know what happens after.”

Well, that made two of them. She still didn’t know what they were supposed to be doing at the moment, as it was. There had to be a way back. Otherwise, replicating the ritual wouldn’t be worth the cost, and she was pretty sure she’d seen Kevin’s father show up more than once on that parchment, not to mention the fact they’d seen him in person.

Joey was still silent. It was eerie, the way he was standing there, like a melodramatic Renaissance painting. She almost wanted to beg him to say something, anything. The only thing his silence did was remind her that things weren’t how they usually were. She shook the thoughts away. _Just focus on the case, Rosa._ The way back had to be obvious, right? If it wasn't, it wouldn’t make sense to send them in without any instructions. Unless Kevin’s dad intended on trapping them here for the rest of eternity. No, that didn’t make sense either. They’d seemed genuine.

“What’ve you got rattling around in that head of yours?”

She looked up to see Joey only inches away, and she yelped, leaping back. “You scared me.”

“Hey, I’m a _ghost_ -“ His eye twitched, mouth quirking up. “Actually, scratch that one.” He grinned, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “I think it’s just part of my infallible charm.”

Infallible charm, eh? She chuckled and grabbed his tie, pulling him closer. The expression of a deer in headlights crossed his face briefly before he raised an eyebrow, grin growing wider.

“Oh, _now_ you want it, huh?” he teased.

“No,” she replied, looking up at his face, blue eyes so close to her own, and for a moment she’d considered- she’d _really_ considered... “I want this.” With one last tug on his tie for momentum, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder.

He returned the embrace, holding her close. “You’re not even trying to find a way out, are you?”

“You interrupted me,” she protested, nuzzling a little deeper.

His chest vibrated in laughter. “Well then, Miss Interrupted, what did you have before I so rudely cut off your train of thought?”

“Not yet,” she murmured. She wanted to savor this just a little longer.

He nudged her. “Come on, we’ve got a job to do.”

“You let go first, then.”

That shut him up. She could feel him finally settling into the embrace, a sigh escaping his lips. “I don’t know how I put up with you.”

Oh, really? Like _she_ was the one who was trying to set a record for near-death incidents. But she didn’t bother giving a rebuttal, closing her eyes. “Whatever we’re looking for probably isn’t in this room.”

“What makes you say that?”

“For one thing, I’ve already tried touching just about everything in here.”

He lowered his voice, leaning close to her ear. “...Everything?”

What, was there something- Oh. _Oh_. She scowled, shoving him back. “Get off me.”

And he looked so damn pleased with himself, too. “Okay, okay,” he said, holding his hands out. “Let’s think.” He looked back at her, a sly smile spreading across his face. “You know, your aunt...”

“Would’ve figured this out already?” she huffed, trying to get her hair back together. She would’ve considered tying it up if it wasn't so darn cold outside.

“...was never this much fun.”

Rosa’s hands froze in place. Joey never, and she meant _never_ , compared her to Auntie Lauren in a favorable light. And now he’d done it twice. “Joey...”

He walked over, picking one of her hands off her head and holding it in his own. “Come on. If it’s not in this room, then there’s no use staying here.”

She followed him back to the living room, looking around for anything that might be a hint. The encyclopedia. It was still resting on the dresser where Kevin had left it. She reached for it, hand getting uselessly deflected to the side. Damn it.

There was a chuckle behind her and she turned around, glaring at Joey.

“Nothing, Red,” he said, grinning. “I saw nothing.”

So, that was out of the question. Was it just something specific, then? No, if that was the case, they’d for sure have been told about it. It had to be something else. Something general. Something like...

The frame that held the fishing photo almost seemed to glow with an unnatural light, a vibrant yellow and orange against the red that drowned everything else. And she had a feeling that if she just reached out her hand...

As soon as her fingers grazed the metal, the red tint snapped away, reality resuming as if they’d never left. She looked down at herself, stunned. “Joey, I think I-“

He wasn’t there anymore. Not a trace. She knew he’d been standing right there, but...

“Joey?”

The frame. She looked back at it again, younger Kevin in the photo it held grinning gleefully back. There didn’t seem to be anything special about it. The metal frame was nicely polished, though, to the point it was gleaming. But she wondered if she just touched it again...

Snap. The world was once again sheeted in red. _Pretty neat, actually_ , she thought, turning around to face Joey.

His face had gone pale, eyes wide as saucers as he stared at her. “You just- I thought you-“

“You disappeared too,” she reassured. But she couldn’t help thinking that he had been about to say something else. Whatever it had been, she wouldn’t know now. The crack in his composure had already been paved over, hands back in his pockets.

“Yeah. Just get on with it. I’ll follow you.”

She turned back to the frame, reaching out to touch its surface, and he did the same. Like someone letting go of a rubber band under tension, everything snapped back into full color.

“Neat little trick,” Joey muttered, studying the frame in the same way she had just seconds ago. “You think it’s just the frame, or anything shiny?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “But we’re back.”

He smiled. “That we are.” He walked past her, starting down the stairs. “Come on. Let’s grab dinner before we go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a bit long (almost 4000 words!). But, it was one scene, and I couldn't break it up, so... And yes, I couldn't resist naming the chapter the way I did. Sue me. (Please don't).  
> One of my favorite exchanges between our lovely protagonists happens this chapter. :)


	9. An Ordinary Day

Back at the apartment, Joey leaned back in Red’s desk chair, hat tipped over his face. On the other side of the room, the owner of the said chair was sprawled out on the couch, grumbling to herself.

“God, I haven’t eaten that much in years,” she groaned, staring up at the ceiling.

Hmph. “Me neither, kid, you don’t gotta get so excited about it.”

“You’ve been dead.”

“If you want to get technical.”

She rolled over, hair spilling over the couch. “I still can’t believe they let us eat for free.”

“It’s called hospitality, you should try it sometime.”

“You’re not a guest,” she shot back. “You’ve been living here for four years.”

“I haven’t been ‘living’ anywhere, sweetheart. Plus, I don’t think the Huangs expected us to come back at all.”

She sighed. “You can’t really blame them for that, though. We _were_ asking something pretty unconventional.”

“Heh. That’s us, alright. Unconventional.”

With a grunt, Red stood up, flipping her hair back to the correct side of her head. “I’m going to go to bed. I got you some clothes to sleep in, by the way. It’s on the second shelf in the closet.”

“Uh huh.” He pulled the brim of his hat a little lower as she left, letting the darkness settle in. And with it came silence. Sure, the walls were thin, and he could still hear the traffic outside, but compared to everything else in a while? It was the first moment of peace he’d had.

Peace was probably an exaggeration. No matter how silent everything was around him, his head wouldn’t shut up. And it was nearly deafening.

She hadn’t even hesitated. She hadn’t had a clue what touching that frame would’ve even done, and just because it’d been shiny...

His heart had skipped a beat when he’d seen it. He didn’t even really know how to describe it. Like a piece of mist, a shapeless piece of air. A spook. But he’d known it was her. And for those few terrible seconds, he had to face the reality that he had lost her all over again. Just like that. Disintegrated. Taken away.

He’d tried talking to her. Tried reaching out. Regretted leaving that bedroom at all. He’d still been in shock when she’d come back.

And then there was the matter of what had happened earlier. What the hell had he been thinking? He’d almost...

And yet his mind kept dragging him back to that moment. Her eyes shining in the darkness, hand on his tie, face only inches away. His heartbeat thudding in his ears, throat constricting as he looked at her.

He couldn’t. He _couldn’t_. But God, if he didn’t want to. He could hear the sound of the shower running, water gurgling through old pipes. So, she hadn’t gone to bed right away after all. At that thought, his hat slowly slipped off his face, falling to the carpet below. He didn’t bother moving to pick it up. 

And the dragon. He’d forced her to take care of that by herself. What if she hadn’t been there when he’d gone back? It would’ve been his fault. Again.

He’d thought that being alive meant he could actually do something useful for once. Turns out it didn’t make much of a difference. The most useful thing he’d done was something he thought he shouldn’t be able to do anymore. That damn tie. Taunting him. Telling him that he shouldn’t be alive. That his mere existence at this point in time was a mistake.

“Joey? Are you coming?”

He looked back to see her looking out from behind the bedroom door, hair wrapped in a towel. Hastily, he reached down, picking his hat up. “Yeah, I...”

“I don’t want you out here all night.”

He placed the hat on her desk, sighing. “It’s what I always do.”

“ _Living_ people need to sleep.”

“Uh huh,” he dismissed, reclining again.

“I’m not leaving until you come in.”

“Gonna be a long night then, darling.”

She was gobsmacked a moment, wiping the steam from her glasses. Eh. He figured she’d go back inside soon enough. But instead, she walked to the kitchen, filling a kettle with water. “Fine.”

He raised an eyebrow and sat up in the chair, uncrossing his legs. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Making coffee,” she stated plainly. “Do you want one?”

She wasn’t even looking at him. This was a power play, wasn’t it? Did she seriously think..?

He got up and walked over, grabbing the handle of the kettle. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

She put her hand over his, moving the kettle back over the heating element. “So should you. But, since you’re not...” She gestured her head at it.

“Okay. I get it.” He sighed, letting go.

With a smirk, she switched the stove off. “Come on, Joey. For real, this time.”

Fine. He supposed she won this round. “Alright, alright. I’m coming.” 

And though he’d like to think that he would get the better of her next time, he had a feeling that would never be the case.

It didn’t take him long to change into the clothes she’d gotten for him, getting into bed.

“Goodnight, Joey,” she mumbled, rolling over away from him.

“Goodnight, Red.”

It wasn’t long before he could hear her snoring softly beside him, and he sunk his head further into the pillow, sighing. He didn’t actually feel tired at all. Not after everything that had happened today. But before he could move to get up, he could feel Red snaking an arm around his waist in her sleep.

Well, then. He supposed staring at this ceiling wouldn’t be too different from the one outside. Maybe he could even close his eyes for a bit.

* * *

Rosa awoke to a terrible sound. Her first thought was that it was a jackhammer and that the construction across the street must’ve started up again. But it sounded closer. Like it was coming from...

She put on her glasses, stumbling into the living room. Joey was hunched over at the dining table with a... was that a sewing machine? She didn’t own a sewing machine. 

“Where did you get that?”

“Nishanti,” he said, not looking up from whatever he was working on. “You know, talking to your neighbors isn’t really that hard.”

She leaned against the doorframe, sighing. “That was four years ago.”

“And yet you still don’t know who lives in the apartment two doors down.”

“I’ve been busy.” Even though she was consciously aware he’d been a tailor once, she never really expected to see him actually tailoring anything. And yet his hands were going through the motions with ease, like the last time he’d done it wasn’t over eighty years ago.

Seeming satisfied with the modifications, he stood up, trying the shirt on. “So, how do I look?”

“Like you’re wearing a shirt.” She did have to admit it fit significantly better now. Not that she’d bother giving him the satisfaction.

“Come on, I’m a professional.” He grinned at her. “Gotta dress like one, too.”

“A professional mooch, maybe.”

Her words didn’t deter him. If anything, he was just smiling wider now. “Have we got another lead yet?”

“No, I can’t say I’ve found the time since you _just woke me up_.”

“And good morning to you too, darling.”

“Ugh.” Ignoring him, she walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. The person that awaited her in the mirror was a mess. Of course she was. She put a cup under the faucet, switching it on. Next lead. Was there even a way to _get_ another lead? Turning the faucet off, she dipped her toothbrush in the now filled cup before applying toothpaste.

The only thing she knew how to do was _help_ ghosts, she mused as she brushed her teeth. She hardly knew a thing about fighting living people, let alone fighting someone who’d been dead multitudes longer than she’d been alive. A lot longer than _Joey_ had been around, too.

Hang on. She spat into the sink, running the faucet again. Maybe she didn’t have to? She’d spoken to Madeline before, and she’d seemed... sane. Mostly, at least. Okay, Madeline _did_ shoot Joey. But he had the tendency of running his mouth more than he should, anyway. Rosa just couldn’t reason with herself that anyone was beyond saving. That there wasn’t anyone who didn’t deserve a chance. Even someone who’d done what Madeline had.

Or what Joey claimed she’d done.

_‘Do you trust me?’_

He’d asked her that, back at the hospital. And after everything they’d been through together, the answer should be yes. Shouldn’t it?

Sure, she reasoned. It wasn’t like she didn’t believe anything he’d said. Just... maybe there was a better way to solve this. There had to be. As she splashed water on her face, her phone went off, and she picked it off the counter, curious.

A new email. Unknown sender. She sighed, moving her finger to delete it. It was probably more ‘Tomo’ spam. But as she did, her eyes caught the content of the message.

_Ms. Blackwell,_

_I’m afraid I cannot disclose my identity at this current moment, but I have information that may interest someone of your ability. Things are not quite as they may seem. I request that you arrive at the Eternox nightclub at 8 tonight. There is much to discuss._

_Regards,_

_A friend_

Huh. This could be the lead they needed after all. She got dressed hastily, walking back out to the living room. At that same moment, Joey was walking in through the front door, looking slightly annoyed.

“That neighbor of yours just invited us to dinner.”

“ _Ours_ ,” Rosa corrected.

“Yeah, yeah. Just tell her we can’t make it.”

“And why would I do that?”

“You want to hear that old broad babble all night?”

“Joey. Be nice.”

“What? She can’t hear me.”

Rosa sighed. “You know that if we turn her down now, she’s just going to keep asking. Plus, it’s rude to flake on her.”

“Uh huh.”

She glanced down at her phone briefly. Depending on the time of dinner, Joey might end up getting his way regardless. “Did Nishanti tell you when she wanted to meet?”

“Don’t tell me you actually want to go through with this.”

“Joey.”

“Fine, fine. She wanted to meet at that Italian place down the street at six.” He stopped, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you care so much about the time, anyway? You got somewhere else to be?”

“Maybe I just want to be punctual, for once.”

But she’d piqued his interest regardless. “Come on, Red. Spill.”

“Not until you promise me you’ll behave. I don’t want you embarrassing me in front of Nishanti.”

He chuckled at the notion. “Sorry to break it to you, doll, but you don’t need me for that. Need I remind you what happened at the Park Gallery?”

No. He didn’t. But he also seemed to have forgotten who held the cards at the moment. “Well, I guess you don’t need to know.”

He blinked, jaw going slack. “Hey, now. Quit futzing around.”

She shot him a pointed look, and his face fell.

“...Really?”

“ _Joey_.”

He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Okay. I’ll _behave_. Jesus, Red. I bet that dog next door gets treated better than I do.”

“You want to go and ask him?”

“Heh. The mutt would freak. The last time he saw me, I was dead.” He walked up to her, cocking his head. “So, what’s this meeting of yours?”

She smiled at him, wondering if he’d implode if she dragged it out any longer. But she wouldn’t do that to him. “I’ve got a lead.”

His expression shifted immediately, eyes lighting up. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Before she could respond, he’d already slipped his coat on. “Come on, let’s get going.”

“Not so fast,” she said, plucking the hat off his head. “I received an email from someone who claims they have information for us. They want us to meet them tonight.”

“So you’re saying we can’t do anything yet.” Joey deflated as quickly as he’d perked up. “What the hell are we supposed to do all day, then?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t had this much free time in ages. Maybe a movie?”

“When’s the last time you did that?” he asked, voice suddenly softening. She wasn’t exactly sure why.

“A long, long time, Joey.”

He was silent for a moment, taking his hat back from her. “Say, Red. I’ve got a bit of an idea.”

“What is it?”

He stuck the hat back on his head, flashing her a smile. “Just follow me.”

A short while later, she found herself on a park bench in Washington Square, nursing a drink she’d picked up from the closest coffee shop.

“Joey, we live a block from this park. And it’s cold outside.”

“What, you can’t appreciate a nice day outdoors?”

“It’s _not_ a nice day out.” She took a sip of her coffee, letting the warmth run through her. “Also, I didn’t really think you were the kind of person to like sitting still.”

He shrugged, leaning back. “It’s different. You’re here.”

“I’m _always_ here.”

“Sure you are.”

She frowned. “What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, darling. Just nothing.” But his gaze had gone distant regardless. “Do you still remember when we met?”

“Of course I do,” she said. “It isn’t exactly easy to forget something like that.”

“Heh,” he chuckled humorlessly.

Right, okay. Just keep being cryptic. It wasn’t like it was getting on her nerves at all. She took a larger gulp of her coffee this time.

“You know, I don’t know if you recall, but I was there that day before you could see me.”

“I think you mentioned it once. Something along the lines of ‘I’ve been watching you all day’, which, for the record, is a really creepy thing to say to someone when you meet them.”

He was laughing again, this time with a little more authenticity. “It’s not like you could’ve gotten rid of me.”

“I could’ve ignored you.”

“Are you sure about that?” She felt his breath hit her as a lock of hair fell into her face.

“Hey!” She shoved him, pouting. “I thought you said you weren’t going to do that anymore.”

A cheeky grin spread across his face. “That was before I could do this.” Before she could react, a handful of snow was tossed into her face, obscuring her vision.

“Joey!”

By the time she wiped the snow off her glasses, he was standing, walking backward away from the bench. “Come on, Red. When’s the last time you and I did anything fun?”

Seriously? For someone _that_ old... She finished her coffee, throwing it in the garbage before leaning down, mittens scooping at the snow.

But he had a point.

She popped up, throwing the snowball she’d just made at him. But he’d seen it coming, calmly stepping to the side as the snowball flew past him.

“Sorry, darling, but you’re going to have to do better than that.”

Oh, it was _on_. She took off after him, but he was somehow faster, darting around the park until she couldn’t see him anymore. Damn it. He hadn’t even had legs the last eighty years, how was he faster than her? She bent down, hastily forming another snowball. Maybe she could just get him when he popped out.

And yet she could feel another clump hit her in the back.

“Come on. All that walking you do has gotta be for something.”

She spun around, ready to throw, but he was already dashing away. Ugh. She hated running. And yet she ran after him anyway, if only to wipe that smug grin off his face.

But she hadn’t gone very far when her foot hit an icy patch, sliding out beneath her. She was going to-

Oomph. She’d landed flat on her back, staring up at the sky. God, she was way too old for this. She could probably still stand up, right? Nothing was broken. At least, she hoped so.

“Sheesh, Red, be more careful,” Joey huffed, running up to her. “You’re going to hurt yourself like that.”

“Thanks. I realized.” She chucked the snowball at him as a last-ditch attempt, the crude creation breaking into pieces on his shoulder. With that, he flopped down as well, lying beside her.

“Well, it looks like you got me.”

“Right. Because that makes me feel better.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d fall like that. It’s like that time you...” He trailed off, frowning.

“Time I what?”

“Ah, forget it.”

Hm. She didn’t remember doing anything like this. But he’d experienced things she hadn’t. And she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious. “Try me.”

He turned his head to look at her. “You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” he started. “Let me tell you about the time we snuck into the secret office of a flesh-peddler.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, no fun facts this time. But this chapter is basically just fluff, anyway/obligatory homage to the dumpster scene, which I love.


	10. An Unusual Night

A few hours later, they had gotten ready and were on their way to the restaurant. And Joey was starting to wish he’d never said anything at all.

“And you expect me to believe that?” Red asked, brow furrowed.

“Well, it’s the truth, darling, take it or leave it.” He was really hoping she’d leave it at this rate. God, she liked asking questions, didn’t she?

“So we broke in to find out about one of Father Michael’s friends.”

“Yeah. Heather Goffstein.”

“Who was also Tanya Corsey, the host of the Good Morning Show.”

“That’s what I said.”

“And in the process, I fell off a dumpster.”

“Uh huh.” He nodded.

“Multiple times.”

“Looked pretty painful.”

Red sighed, shaking her head. “So Heather’s ghost... split? Since when can they do that?”

“I don’t really know. Like I’ve said, I was learning as I went along as much as you were.”

She absorbed the information, frowning. “So what happened to them in the end?”

“We got them back together. Then, she was taken by Madeline.”

“Taken.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t really like thinking about that moment. A culmination of his failures in one horrible manifestation. First Heather and Peter. Then Michael.

Then Red.

He glanced at her briefly, but she seemed to be wrapped up in thought. It was probably for the better. There were fewer questions that way.

“Come on,” he said, going ahead of her. “If we keep yammering on like this, we’ll be late.”

* * *

When they arrived, the restaurant was filled to the brim with people, the two of them winding around the restaurant until they found the table Nishanti was at.

“Oh, Rosa!” The woman stood up, a wide smile on her face. “And you were Joey, weren’t you?”

He nodded, tipping his hat. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Sharma.” Eh, if Red wanted him to put up an act, he could. _‘Behave, Joey’._ He would’ve rolled his eyes if it wouldn’t clue her off.

“Well, any friend of Rosa’s is a friend of mine.” Nishanti leaned in a little closer to him. “Just between you and me, she doesn’t have very many. I get worried.”

He couldn’t help snickering at that, despite the fact he could already feel Red glaring holes into the back of his head.

“Come, come, sit.”

As they did, Red leaned in toward him, lowering her voice. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Hey, I didn’t even say anything yet.” And yet he couldn’t quite get the smile off his face. Maybe the old broad wasn’t too bad after all.

“Have you been writing lately, Rosa?” Nishanti asked, smiling broadly. “It feels like we haven’t spoken in forever.”

“I, uh...” Red scratched her head.

Joey knew for a fact that she hadn’t. Not since they’d sorted things with the Countess. Heh. The Countess. He could hardly remember when _she_ was the biggest thing they had to worry about.

“I... haven’t gotten the chance to lately, no.”

The old woman was still beaming regardless. “Well, that’s too bad. I was looking forward to having something of yours to read when I board my next flight.”

Red laughed awkwardly. “Oh, well, the next time I write something, you’ll be the first to know.”

God knew when _that_ would be. Joey instead decided to interest himself in the free bread. It was times like this that he could appreciate having a nose, he thought to himself, taking a whiff of the fresh-baked aroma.

“So, what have you been up to, then, Rosa?” Nishanti continued.

“I... I’ve been...” Red sputtered.

She didn’t really have an answer, did she? All this time, and she still wasn’t any better at lying. And it wasn’t like the truth would make much sense either.

He could suddenly feel an arm nudging his side. “Joey, why don’t you tell Nishanti what we’ve been up to?”

His hand froze in the middle of the process of spreading butter. “Eh..?” He turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you said you didn’t want me to-“

“Shh!”

Jesus, talk about mixed signals. He took another bite of bread, chewing in a faux thoughtful manner. “Red’s been doing some freelance stuff. Sometimes she even gets paid for it.”

“Joey!” She elbowed him, and he winced.

“Eh, but she’s got a good noggin on those shoulders,” he continued, rubbing yet another sore spot. “And sharp elbows. But give it some time. I’m sure there’ll be something to write home about.”

After this, at least, they wouldn’t have to worry about chasing ghosts anymore. And they’d... move on. It was funny. He’d been doing this so long, he could hardly remember doing anything else. Maybe that was just part of being dead. All the ideas of living get left behind. It was only natural. It wasn’t like death was a two-way street.

Well, usually, anyway.

Red seemed relieved he hadn’t said more. But he was trying to be ‘good’, whatever that meant. He hadn’t been planning on telling Nishanti about her hobby of picking up restraining orders or chatting to ‘herself’ in seedy places. Or breaking into places she wasn’t meant to be in. Or stealing from old ladies. Or that one time she’d murdered someone.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” Nishanti said, smiling fondly at them. “I’m glad to see you’ve found someone so supportive.”

He could barely hold in the laughter as Red glared at him again.

“Oh, I’m _very_ supportive,” Joey agreed, putting an arm around Red’s shoulders as she pouted. “You might even say I’d never leave her side. Metaphorically, of course.”

Red rolled her eyes, looking away. He knew she was itching to rib him back, but he also knew that she cared far more about being polite.

“What have you been up to, Nishanti?” she asked, now deliberately ignoring him.

The old broad laughed. “Oh, well, you know me. I’m still going on my little world adventures. I just wanted to stop by for a little bit to check on Moti. You know how he gets. I’m glad I was able to catch up with you, too, Rosa.”

Ah. So they _could_ have flaked on her. Though saying that out loud probably wouldn’t bode well for him.

“But enough about me, I want to hear about you! How did you two meet?”

Joey snuck a glance back at Red, who was not looking back. What was it she had said earlier? “College..?” He hadn’t even gone to college. “We both had that... apple lady.”

“Appleton. Gen-Ed writing.”

“Yeah, isn’t that what I said?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Well, it’s been a long time, sweetheart.” Try never. Come on, he was trying his best. It wasn’t every day he had to put on a show like this.

Red sighed, only too glad to hide behind her plate of pasta when it arrived. Mission failed, then, Joey supposed. He was going to get an earful after this. Better enjoy the free bread while it lasted.

* * *

When they left the restaurant, Red looked a little more subdued than usual, shuffling her feet as they walked.

“Was I not ‘good’ enough, your highness?” he teased, in an effort to lighten the mood.

“No, it’s not that,” she said, evidently still distracted. “I was just... thinking. About life. My life, really.”

Oh. So that’s what it was. “Whatever it is, darling, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

But she shook her head, walking ahead. “You said it yourself, Joey, a little while ago. Being a medium was the only thing I was good at. And now, now I’m not.”

Well, in hindsight, maybe that hadn’t been the _best_ thing to say. “And I was terrible at being alive. Yet here we are.”

“That doesn’t bother you at all?”

“Sure it does.” Quite a bit, to be completely honest. “But that’s just part of life,” he said, walking quicker to catch up with her. “We’ll figure it out.”

“It won’t be easy.”

“Nothing ever is, darling.”

She stopped walking for a moment, looking down at her feet. After a few seconds, she chuckled, turning toward him. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, Joey.”

“Eh?” He tilted his head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smirked as she started walking again, seeming to revel in his confused expression. “You’ll see.”

* * *

They arrived at the nightclub about ten minutes before eight. Rosa couldn’t help scanning the crowd outside warily as they walked toward the building. The local populace consisted of goth and punk kids, the streaks of bright color in their hair seeming to glow under the neon lights that seemed to pulse from every inch of the exterior. The rest of the building itself didn’t look any more inviting, the sinister angles of its architecture illuminated only by the blinding lights that flashed from the gothic-style windows in time with a low bass that thrummed through the night. If anything, this was usually a place she’d avoid at all costs.

Joey looked pretty out of his element, too. His hat was tipped a little lower than usual, hands in his pockets. In his suit, he looked more like a security guard than a patron. Though even security was more casually dressed.

“So,” he said, sizing up the place, “instead of spending our nights at haunted joints, you decided to find the first place that _looks_ haunted.”

“I’m not the one who picked it out.” She honestly didn’t want to be out of the house at all. After their trip to the park, nothing sounded better than some quality time in the warmth of her apartment.

Joey stared up at the neon sign, twisting his mouth in distaste. “Well, let’s just do what we’ve gotta do, then.”

* * *

Rosa could feel the bass booming in her chest the instant they walked in, loud club music drowning out her senses. Joey looked about as pleased as she felt to be there, eyes narrowed and hands shoved into his pockets as he scanned the occupants of the room.

She heard him try to yell something over the music. Something about her face?

“What?” she yelled back. “I can’t hear you!”

“Are you sure this is the place?” he tried again. “Kind of a terrible place to meet people, if you ask me!”

“I just followed the address!”

“Huh?”

Oh, this wasn’t going to work. “Forget it!”

He shrugged, going back to looking around.

Rosa scanned the crowd as well, but no one seemed to be waiting for anyone. They were all lost in their own worlds, dancing or drinking or talking. She had a sinking feeling their contact wasn’t going to be here at all. Joey probably felt the same way. She glanced back at him, only for their eyes to meet.

He blinked a few times, quickly averting his gaze to the rack of liquor behind the bar.

“You gonna get something?” she teased, and he looked back, raising an eyebrow. Hm. Not going to give in, was he?

“Maybe I am.” He walked over as if to prove a point, and she followed.

It was slightly quieter by the bar. Enough so that conversation wasn’t painful, at the very least.

He glanced back at her one more time before waving the bartender over. “Just get me something stiff.” A few moments later, a glass of whiskey was slid across the bar, and Joey picked it up, swirling the ice in the glass before taking a sip. “I can’t believe this stuff classifies as music.”

“Well, people like it.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Spend more than fifteen minutes in this place and you’ll go deaf. I’m starting to think they make it as loud as possible in an attempt to feel anything.”

They’d already been here for longer than fifteen minutes, but she refrained from mentioning it. Instead, she rolled her eyes, sighing.

“Are we just going to sit here until your contact shows up?”

With the way this was going, they were going to be here for hours, but it wasn’t like they had any other leads at the moment. “We might as well give it a little longer. We’re here, after all.” Not that it was either of them’s usual scene.

“I suppose you’re right.” He was looking at her again, an uncharacteristically intent gaze clouding his expression. “Do you want anything?”

She laughed at the idea. “Not unless you want to recreate what happened the last time I drank.” At the very least, it wasn’t something _she_ wanted to recreate. God, even the thought of it got her embarrassed. But maybe she _was_ a little thirsty. “On second thought, maybe a soda?”

He pondered this before signaling for service again. “Shirley Temple for the lady.” As the bartender left to make the drink, he turned back to her. “You know, that girl was around before I died. Not for long, of course, she’d barely been born, but...” He sighed. “I tried piecing together the things I’d missed when I got tied to your grandmother. It was basically the only thing I could do since she wouldn’t talk to me, anyway.” He took a longer sip of his drink. “And now that girl? Shirley Temple? She’s dead. Of old age.”

“And you don’t think you deserve to be here.”

He didn’t answer, silently passing over the aforementioned drink when it arrived, which was about as much confirmation as she was going to get. She supposed the conversation was over. Another glance at the door confirmed that no one had entered since they had, and since no one had walked up to them yet... She sighed, sipping her soda through a bendy straw. It was going to be a long night.

An hour later, Joey had polished off another two glasses of whiskey, frown deepening with every sip. Rosa’s glass wasn’t much more than just ice, the cubes slowly melting at the bottom. Evidently, their contact wasn’t going to show up. She glanced back at him, still bent over the empty glass. They should probably go before he ended up drinking away her entire wallet. But before she could say anything, he stood up, holding out a hand in her direction.

“Dance with me.”

Well, that was unexpected. She looked up at him, surprised. His eyes almost looked darker under the pulsating lights. Like there was nothing he’d rather be looking at. And yet, she had the feeling that if she said anything, it would all fall apart. That _he_ would fall apart. So she took his hand.

He led her to the quietest spot on the dance floor he could find, gently transitioning into the first few steps of a waltz as he put a hand on her waist.

“This isn’t how people typically dance in a club, Joey,” she murmured, trying to keep up with his pace. He wasn’t even moving quickly. God, she was terrible at dancing. It was enough of an effort to even stay on her feet. But he somehow accounted for all her stumbling, movements firm and calculated, particular care behind every step.

“Sure,” he conceded, eyes never leaving hers. “But we don’t really go with the grain, do we?”

“No,” she agreed. “We don’t.” Normalcy had been out the window for a long, long time. And yet being here at this moment? It felt right. Maybe it didn’t even matter if the lead was a dud. She was surprised, really. Despite the slight intoxication, he was acting like the perfect gentleman. She honestly didn’t think he had it in him. Especially after the dinner they’d just had.

He was moving like he’d done these exact steps a thousand times, to the point he could put all his focus on her. Maybe he had. It was probably something he’d learned in his old life. Before he’d ever been a spirit guide. It honestly just reminded her how little she really knew about him. “I didn’t know you could dance.”

He smiled briefly. “Not too many people to dance with when you’re dead.”

“And now?”

“Now, I’ve got you.”

It was interesting, in a way. They were surrounded by people, yet no one bothered to give them a second glance. Maybe that was the appeal of places like this. Usually, she’d prefer somewhere quieter, but for now? This would do. She studied his face, trying to write every detail of the moment into her memory. This would definitely do.

As the song neared its end, well, what Rosa assumed was the end, anyway, Joey led her through a few more dance steps before he dipped her gently, pausing. He held the pose a moment, brow furrowing as his breath hitched.

“I’m going to hate myself for this,” he said under his breath, voice trembling. Before she could figure out what he meant, he brought her closer, leaning in.

The taste of warm whiskey filled her mouth as their lips met, her eyes widening in shock before she wrapped an arm around his neck and closed her eyes, deepening the embrace. She wasn’t sure how long they were there like that, but when he broke it off, whatever hint of regret that had been in his eyes had evaporated.

“Red...”

She straightened his hat, trying to smile in as a reassuring way as possible. “It’s alright.”

Cautiously, he pulled her to his chest, sighing. “God, I just... Do you really think we can fix this one? I know that you and I have been through a lot, but...”

“We will,” she murmured. “We have to.”

With that said, he stepped out of the embrace, arms lingering on hers a moment longer. “Let’s get out of this dump, huh?”

She nodded, and they wove through the masses of people dancing on the floor and headed out the doors, leaving the sights and sounds of the club behind them.

* * *

The icy air hit Rosa's face like a slap to reality, the magic of the moment dissipating as fast as the heat from her body into the night. She pulled her coat in a little tighter, shivering.

“Cold?” Joey asked, in an oddly genuine manner.

“I’ll be okay.”

“Whatever you say.” But he wordlessly put an arm around her anyway. “We’re not too far from your place. If we cut through the park on the way, we’ll get there faster.”

It was weird to have him act so... _caring_ . If he was always like this when he drank, maybe he should do it more often. Reduced inhibitions. Wait, so did he _always_ feel this way? Before she could ruminate on that thought any longer, he stopped in his tracks, eyes trained down an alley like a deer in the headlights.

“Maybe I’m just a little too drunk, but...”

She followed his gaze to the end of the alley, where a faint, wispy thing hovered slowly up and down, vaguely in the shape of a person. “No, I see it too.”

“It’s a spook, isn’t it?” he said, confirming her suspicion. “We can see it.”

“Yeah. Whatever happened with the ritual...”

“Heh. Well, Kevin was worried about side effects, wasn’t he? There we go.”

The featureless wisp continued to hover, a faint ghostly wail emanating from it. It was kind of creepy, to be honest. Even with having dealt with as many ghosts as she had. “Do you think it can hear us?”

“I guess it’s worth a shot.”

“Hello?” she called out, stepping toward it. “Can you hear me? We’re here to help.” Well, kind of. There wasn’t much they could actually do anymore. Joey seemed to realize the same, and he’d started pacing around the alley, agitated, hands buried deep in his pockets.

She turned back to the ghost. “Are you okay?” If it had heard, nothing about the way it acted indicated it. 

“Sure, I knew they were always still there,” Joey muttered, stepping the snow beneath his feet into gray mush, “but now we can see ‘em again. And I’m not entirely sure that’s a good thing.”

She turned her attention back to him. “It’s one step closer to our goal.”

“And what about afterward?” he spat, shoulders shuddering with rage. “If we even get out of this in one piece, then what? These spooks will all still be here. Waiting for someone that will never come.” His voice dropped at the last word, expression falling.

But he wasn’t entirely right. Not this time. “They won’t be here forever.”

“How can you say that?” he asked, incredulous. “You know they’re not going anywhere without a Bestower. Without _us_.”

“We weren’t alone.” She’d pieced it together a little while ago, but it made sense in retrospect. “I don’t think we ever were.”

Joey stopped walking. “What do you mean?”

“Father Michael. He’s one of us now. Maybe not in the traditional sense, since he and Madeline aren’t actually saving anyone, but it means that I wasn’t the only one. There could be two Bestowers at once. More even. Did you ever think about the ghosts in every other city? Around the world?”

“Of course I have.”

“Then you know there are probably even more out there. More Bestowers. More spirit guides. In some time, there’ll be another pair in New York. The ghost won’t be here forever.”

He absorbed the words, still staring at the wisp. “And this doesn’t feel wrong to you? To just walk away?”

“What other choice do we have?”

The ghost continued to float and shift around as Joey watched it, his expression unreadable. “I suppose you’re right.” Adjusting his coat, he turned away. “Come on, then. I don’t want to look at it any longer than I have to.”

They continued walking back in silence, along the darkened streets. They had gotten to somewhere in the middle of the park before anyone spoke again.

“Joey?”

“Uh huh?” He still seemed bothered about the ghost, shoulders drawn in, head bowed. Not that she could blame him. He’d been one not too long ago.

She cleared her throat before speaking. “Do you think it’s possible that our contact meant for us to see the ghost, and that’s why they picked that club?”

“Maybe. Maybe they meant for that to happen. Or maybe they just flaked, and we were unlucky.”

“What, after what happened tonight, you still think you’re unlucky?”

The hint of a smile cracked on his face, the first time he’d done so since they’d left the club. “Not entirely. As long as I’ve got you with me.”

She extended a hand and he took it, smiling a little wider now as they continued walking.

They hadn’t gotten very far when he suddenly stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Joey?” She grabbed onto him, trying to prop him back up. “Are you okay?”

“I...” He put a hand to his head, leaning his weight on her. “Not really.”

“How do you feel?”

He tried to shrug, body slumping around. “Drunk..?”

He really hadn’t drunk that much. It didn’t make sense for him to... She could feel something hard pressed against her side, and she reached for it, coming away with a small pill bottle. Pain medication. Oh, crap.

“Joey. Didn’t the doctor tell you not to drink alcohol?”

The odd slumping motion again. “...Probably?”

She really wished he’d stop doing that. It was hard enough trying to keep him standing when he _wasn’t_ moving. “And yet you went and did it anyway.”

He chuckled at about half the speed he’d usually do so. “Let a guy... live a little.”

And die a little, too, apparently. Ugh. Why did he have to be so difficult to take care of? “Let’s just get home, okay?”

“Now _that’s_... a good idea.”

She was practically dragging him now. It was good that they weren’t far from the apartment, otherwise, she wasn’t sure if _she’d_ end up collapsing as well. Maybe a gym membership would be a good idea after all. She had the time now, for one thing. She looked back down at Joey, his eyes mostly closed. Or maybe not.

“You know, Red...” he mumbled into her shoulder, “I... like you.”

“I know, Joey,” she said, trying to reposition his dead weight leaning on her. “I know.”

He didn’t say much after that, which was probably a good sign that she should be moving faster. She kept checking periodically whether he was actually still conscious, never actually sure if he was or not. He definitely wasn’t by the time she unceremoniously dumped him on the bed with the last of her energy. What a way to end the night. She moved him over enough for herself to get a space on the bed, lying down.

Actually, now that she thought about it, besides the ghost, today had been normal. So unbelievably... mundane. No breaking and entering, no dragons, no staying out at obscene hours roaming the streets. She looked back at Joey, chest gently rising and falling as he slept off his mistake. Maybe she didn’t mind if things stayed this way. Warmth blooming in her chest, she snuggled into his side, closing her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact time!
> 
> For me, at least. It's fun to write these. 
> 
> The real fun fact from the last chapter was that we passed the halfway point. So I guess this is... extra past the halfway point? 
> 
> Anyway, the entire nightclub scene, from when Rosa and Joey enter, to the point when they walk away from the ghost, was written in a disjointed spur of inspiration like- way before the rest of the chapter. I basically plopped it into its rightful spot when I got there.
> 
> Fun fact two? I chose for Joey to have never attended college because although in the 20's (which I just guesstimated), going to higher education was becoming more popular, he worked what I think(?) qualifies as a trade job, which generally doesn't require attending university.


	11. Retracing Their Steps

Joey woke up to his head screaming at him, the constant throbbing pain the only thing he could register aside from the persistent taste of sandpaper in his mouth. Nope. The bullet wound still stung too. All combined in a symphony of awful sensations. Urgh. Just before he thought he couldn’t take any more of it, the door flew open, an anthropomorphic blob of red hair sticking her head in.

“Joey, I’ve got an idea.” 

The sound of her voice sent the cacophony of pain rattling around his head again.

“Jesus, Red,” he groaned, ducking under the covers. “Not so loud.”

“Sorry,” she whispered, sticking out a glass of water for him. He drank from it eagerly as he slowly sat up, downing the entire thing before setting the glass aside.

“So, what is it?”

“You still remember everything we did the first time around.”

“Yeah..?” Just where was she going with this?

“Maybe we could go to some of the same locations.”

His brow furrowed. “What good would that do?” They’d just see a bunch of spooks. Unidentifiable ones, at that. Did she want a tour? ‘Ah yeah, that one used to be Peter Fielding. He hit his head when he fell off a ladder.’

“I don’t know, I was thinking we might be able to find some clues.”

“Forget it, sweetheart.”

She crossed her arms, refusing to give in. “You  _ do _ realize we still don’t know how to beat Madeline, right?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. She was right, after all. They didn’t have a darn clue how to win. The thing was, he was starting to think there wasn’t a way at all. It had taken the combined power of the universe to send Madeline away the last time, and there wasn’t any way he knew of to replicate that now. Maybe he’d known that it’s been hopeless since they’d left Chinatown. Maybe he’d just been blindsided by his own emotions.

Or maybe all he wanted was to spend these last few days just  _ living _ , for once, with someone he cared- 

His eyes widened as he looked up at her, the realization cutting through his thoughts.

“I kissed you.” He was surprised he could still remember the moment, considering how things had ended up the night before.

Red looked a little off-put by the sudden change in topic. “Yes, you did.”

He had honestly thought that he would be more upset about it. And sure, maybe the waves of guilt were barely held at bay, but the fact stood that...

She’d kissed him back. Maybe it had just been an elaborate hallucination, but he  _ really _ wanted to believe it. Either that, or he’d have to spend the rest of the day apologizing. Or the rest of his life. His head throbbed in protest.

“Was there something you were going to say?” she asked, brow furrowing.

“Nah.” He got out of bed somewhat gingerly, stretching a bit. So, this was the part that wasn’t so fun about living. “We can go on your little tour. It’s better than nothing.”

“Is everything okay?”

He turned away from her, sighing. Besides the fact that they were probably going to be vaporized along with the rest of Manhattan? “Nothing important.”

She knew he was lying. He could see it in those damned eyes of hers. But what was he supposed to say? ‘Everything’s okay’? He couldn’t do that to her. But there had to be  _ something _ they could do. Even if they couldn’t solve this, they had to at least try.

They were the only ones who knew, after all.

“If you wanted another kiss, you could’ve just asked,” she said, cracking a sympathetic smile.

Oh, good. She felt bad for him. “Look, whatever I did last night, whatever I said-“

She shook her head. “You don’t need to take it back, Joey. It’s okay.” She took a deep breath, scratching the back of her neck. “I... like you too.”

Oh. “Did I tell you I..?” He must’ve had. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have just said that.

“You... did. You were pretty out of it, though.”

“Ah.” It took a second before the grin spread across his face. “So you  _ do _ like me.”

She sighed. “And I regret it already.”

He chuckled appreciatively. “Come on, darling. We’ve got things to take care of.” Well, at least he hoped they did. To be fair, anything that would take his mind off of their impending existential doom would be a welcome change.

“Right.” She almost looked a little disappointed at his response. “Go ahead and get ready, then. I’ll wait.”

Getting ready. Just another thing to add to the rapidly growing laundry list of things that  _ weren’t _ fun about living. Dead guys didn’t need to get dressed in the morning, or brush their teeth, or comb their hair, or shave- ah, damn it.

He wiped away the drop of blood that oozed from the fresh cut on his chin, frowning. At least the docs were gracious enough to give him a bottle of narcotics to drown everything out. He shook a few pills out of the bottle without counting, swallowing them dry. Once that was sorted, he walked back out to the living room. Red was sitting on the couch, frowning at a picture frame.

“Joey, come look at this.”

“Hm?” He walked over, poking his head over her shoulder. She was holding the only family photograph she’d had before the day they’d met. The one with her Aunt Lauren on the Brooklyn Bridge. But there was something a little different about it this time around.

The last time he’d looked at this photo, he’d been entirely absent from it. But now a glowing orb of light took his spot beside Lauren, the edges of it tinted blue. “Is that me?”

“I... think so,” Red said. “But it’s odd. You don’t look like the ghost we saw yesterday.”

“Huh. I wonder why that is.”

She shook her head, getting up to hang the photo back on its peg. “I don’t know. You’d think by now we’d have a better idea of how these things work. We’re supposed to be experts.”

“Expertise is relative, dear.”

“I guess so.” She pulled her coat on, fastening a few buttons. “So, where are we going first?”

“Heh. Let me just compile the places that wouldn’t get you arrested on the spot.”

Her eyes widened. “I got arrested?”

“Not what I said, but yes.” Hm. Where could they go? “I could probably show you  _ half _ of the split spook.”

“Joey. I got  _ arrested _ ?”

“You were in a house we broke into standing next to a rapidly cooling body.” He picked his hat off its hook, sticking it on his head. “Come on. I think I still remember how to get there.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “I. Got. Arrested.”

“Relax, they didn’t even lock you up. And it’s not like the cops didn’t already have a file on you with the way you pick up restraining orders.”

“Great.”

“Well, I promise it won’t happen again.” He looked back at her as he put on his coat. “At least, not immediately.”

“Wait,” she said, following him out the door. “I didn’t happen to  _ kill _ this ‘rapidly cooling body’, did I?”

“Nah, she shot herself.”

“That’s... not much better.”

“Well, you’ve gotta take what you can get, darling,” he said, as they stepped into the elevator. “Especially if everything else is falling apart.” He found himself reaching for her, fingers interlacing. “Gotta take what you can get.”

He could see her out of the corner of his eye, looking all coy.

“What are you smiling about?”

“I don’t know, I just never thought you would act like this.”

He pulled her towards him, raising an eyebrow. “Act like what?”

Before he could react, she leaned up, brushing her lips against his for just a brief moment, pulling away. And just like that, his heart had jumped into his throat, pounding away. He could barely choke out his next sentence. “Come on, Red, you can do better than that.”

She smiled defiantly back. “Desperate, Joey?”

“...huh?” She’d just- she’d just played him, hadn’t she? “You little...”

Whatever he had to say next slipped away as she pulled him into a deeper kiss, her other arm around his neck. Closing his eyes, he leaned in further, hands gripping her waist as he pulled her closer to him.

It took him a second to realize they’d stopped moving, the ding of the elevator doors opening finally cluing him off as they broke apart. And, on the other side of the doors stood none other than their favorite elderly neighbor. Damn it.

Red’s face had gone the shade of a beet, and she was now physically trying to duck behind him, as if that would do anything. Guess that bravery was only a temporary thing.

Not that he was feeling particularly social at the moment either. He tugged awkwardly at his collar, nudging her. “You think it’s about time we start looking for another place to live?”

“My apartment’s rent-controlled, Joey.”

“Well, in that case...” He stepped out of the elevator, dragging Red behind him. “Good morning, Ms. Sharma. Back from playing the flute?”

Nishanti smiled back, albeit with a little more sparkle in her eyes than usual. “Oh, no. Not today. I just dropped Moti off at the groomer’s. Our flight to Kerala’s tomorrow.”

“Lucky for us.” They wouldn’t have to see her again for a while, at least. Wait. Had he said that out loud? He cleared his throat. “And by that I mean it was lucky for us to get the chance to have dinner with you, then.”

Thankfully, the old broad’s smile didn’t waver as she stepped past them. “Isn’t that right. Well, have a nice day, you two.”

He was pretty sure they both breathed out in relief when the elevator doors closed again.

“Not used to holding your tongue?” Red asked, still partially clinging to his back.

“Well,  _ usually, _ people can’t hear me.” He paused, turning his head to look at her. “You okay back there?”

“Just a little mortified,” she managed to get out. “I’ll live.”

“Uh huh. Let’s get going, then.”

Heather’s place was a decent walk away. Red spent most of the time trying to shrink back in on herself.

“When are you going to realize that no one is paying attention to you?”

She didn’t look convinced. “You say that now, but you don’t know how many times reports have been called in because people saw me ‘talking to myself’.”

“Heh. At least that’s not a problem now.”

“No, now everyone can see how insufferable you are.” She sighed, shaking her head. “God, I still can’t believe that just happened.”

“Well, believe it, sweetheart. If you’re lucky, that old broad will go senile before we have to see her again.”

“Joey!”

“What?” he whined.

“You can’t just- ugh. That’s it, I’m never kissing you again.”

“Aw, come on, darling, don’t be like that.”

“Don’t ‘darling’ me,” she huffed. “Are we there yet? It feels like we’ve just been walking around in circles.”

“Just about.” Okay, maybe he had been stalling a little. To be completely honest, he didn’t exactly  _ want _ to revisit these memories, but it was their best shot, like it or not. And as long as these spooks were still at their haunts, it meant they hadn’t yet been consumed for power. Even if they couldn’t do anything to help.

Heather’s house was a small abode, the patio furniture long iced over, surrounded by an ever-inviting locked gate. One Joey didn’t want to bother looking at too closely. He already knew what was on the other side. “Go ahead, Red. Look through the gate.”

She walked up to it, peering between the bars. “I don’t see anything.”

That couldn’t be good. “Are you sure?” He walked closer, looking through the gate as the faint shape of something vaguely humanoid slowly came into view, tendrils of fog snaking through the air. He tore his eyes away, stomach turning over.

“Do you know who that is?” Red asked, evidently more intrigued than he was willing to be.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s Heather. Well, half of her, anyway.”

“The ghost you told me about yesterday?”

“That’s the one.”

She didn’t respond for a moment, watching the ghost. “What was she like?”

He snorted. “Does that really matter now?”

“Even so, I’d like to know.”

He sighed, bowing his head. Always curious, wasn’t she? And terribly idealistic at times, at that. “Heather was different from most spooks. Didn’t seem to want anything, really, didn’t seem to be lost. She was happy just existing. Asked me to watch the stars with her.”

“Did you?”

He looked up at the overcast sky, one not too different from the one that had been there that night. The night that had started so similarly to all the others, yet had ended so differently. “There weren’t any stars out.”

“...Oh.”

“Not jealous, are you?” he teased, turning his attention back to her.

“Of a ghost? Not really.” She shook her head. “I kinda just... feel sorry for her.”

Hm. He ruminated on that for a second, looking down. “Well, take it this way, then. As long as she’s here, as long as she doesn’t know she’s dead, she’s safe.” If being cold, lost, confused, and alone could count as safe.

“Safe,” Red echoed.

“Yeah. And that’s about the best we can hope for at the moment.” It was better than the alternative, anyway. 

She pressed her lips together. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

“No,” he agreed. “It isn’t.”

She sighed, her breath visible in the cold air. “I guess we should keep moving, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yay, reciprocation. :)  
> Yeah, no, I don't have much to say about this one. It's cute? It's cute.  
> If it was possible for two people to sass each other to death, Rosa and Joey would be pretty high up there.


	12. One More Chance

Sometime later, they found themselves standing in front of Field’s Gym, staring into the panoramic window. Red was blowing into her hands and rubbing them together, and Joey didn’t feel too much warmer himself. At least when he was dead, he didn’t have to feel the cold. That list of his was starting to get rather long.

“Why are we here if we can’t go inside?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself.

“You’re the one who wanted to come.”

“I didn’t think we’d be stuck outdoors.”

He shrugged. “The thing is, darling, there aren’t actually too many places we can actually get into legally.”

She didn’t look especially convinced. “How’d we get in last time, then?”

“We stole a keycard from the spook’s apartment.”

“Of course,” Red sighed, unamused. “Should I really be surprised anymore?”

“With  _ your _ track record?”

“Fair point.”

Joey peered in through the window, scoping the area. The gym was mostly empty. To be expected, given the weather. A man was lifting weights in the corner. He could see the sweat dripping down his forehead from here. Of course, only the truly dedicated probably still bothered going out to the gym in this kind of cold. Aside from that, Joey couldn’t see anyone, living or dead. If Peter was here, he was probably where he’d been when they’d found him the first time- behind the men’s locker room door. The  _ shut _ men’s locker room door.

“I wish we could see the spook from here,” Joey muttered. “I’ve got no idea whether he’s still intact or not.”

Red raised an eyebrow. “Have you considered not being alive? You could go right in, then.”

“Oh, very funny, Red.” To be fair, considering how many times he’d teased her about not being able to phase through doors, he probably deserved it. He sighed, breath fogging up the glass. Maybe if they waited long enough, Peter would just float out into the open. He looked back at the door in thought. Or maybe he could convince someone to-

Red grabbed his arm suddenly, pulling him around the corner to the other side of the building.

When he managed to regain his bearings, he glared at her. “What the hell was  _ that _ -“

“Shh!” She put a finger up to her lips, shaking her head before gesturing her head back the way they’d come from. As if hiding would negate the fact that she’d just left skid marks in the snow dragging him here. But as he peeked around the corner, he realized it wasn’t going to be an issue. The man approaching the front door was completely out of it.

He had a cap pulled low over his face, his mouth obscured by a cloth mask. Not terribly unusual for the weather they’d been having, but something about the man seemed off. Despite the hat, Joey could see his eyes clearly from where he stood. Bloodshot, glazed over. Like he wasn’t really looking at anything. His head was bowed, posture bent as he shuffled up to the keycard reader. Beside him was a glowing blue orb, slowly bobbing up and down. Joey’s eyes narrowed.

“It’s her.”

Red nodded. She’d probably realized it before she’d dragged him over.

“Poor guy,” he muttered, watching the man he now knew to be Father Michael struggle to swipe a keycard. “He’s in way over his head. I don’t even think he’s all there anymore. But that’s our spook, huh? Ruining lives one at a time.”

Eventually, the reader accepted the card and Michael pulled the door open, entering the gym.

“Joey, go get the door,” Red whispered, nudging him.

“Are you crazy?” he shot back. “Do you know-“ He winced as he heard the door close.

She didn’t look too terribly amused. “Well, I guess it’s not important now.”

“Don’t sweat it. We’ll find a way in later. It’s too risky for them to see us now.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Since when do you care about risks?”

_ Since you died.  _ “I don’t have the right to care?”

“It’s just not like you.”

Maybe not. But he had a bad feeling about all of this. And it wasn’t like they had any way to counter whatever Madeline was here to do anyway. Red still didn’t look too happy about it. Eh, whatever. She could sulk all she wanted. As long as she was doing it from someplace safe.

“Joey.”

“...Uh huh?”

“It’s freezing.”

He looked back to see her shivering, face a little paler than he would’ve liked. Oh. Wordlessly, he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you out here.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. Like you said, I was the one who wanted to come.”

He wanted to say something else, but before the words could form in his head, he heard the sound of the door opening and closing again. A quick glance around the corner confirmed that Michael and Madeline were leaving the premises. It was time to make a move.

“Watch and learn, Red,” he said, walking backward to the entrance. His confidence did absolutely nothing to wipe the skeptical look off her face.

“From you?”

Regardless, he flashed her a grin as he stopped in front of the door. “Just sit tight, darling. I’ll be right back.” He knocked on the glass a few times, gesturing to the man lifting weights. Eventually, with a sigh, the man stood up and over.

“Something you need, man?” he asked, through the cracked-open door.

Joey cleared his throat. “Yeah, I think I left my keycard in the locker room earlier. Just wanted to swing by and check.”

The man visibly relaxed a little, a smile spreading across his face. “Happens to all of us.” He held the door open, and Joey entered the gym.

Ugh. The room stank of rubber, metal, and sweat. Not to mention the obnoxious music that was constantly blasting through the place. Better make this one quick. He walked to the locker room, not bothering to take the time to do any additional snooping. Better not look more suspicious than he probably already did.

He was a little hesitant to look around the locker room, afraid of what he might see. Or rather, what he might not see. “Pete?” he called out, fully aware that the spook wouldn’t be able to hear him, as his eyes trailed the rows of metal lockers. “Still fixing that light?” It usually took a few seconds for spooks to show up, anyway. Maybe if he just did a lap around the room... Taking a deep breath, he paced around the lockers, trying to ignore the fact he probably looked like an absolute idiot.

Nothing. It was this spot. It had to be. But there wasn’t a spook, no sign anything had ever happened at the location. Peter wasn’t here anymore. And Joey could only assume the worst had happened. But even if he  _ had _ come in here earlier, what had he been supposed to do? Yell at Madeline? God knew how well that had gone last time.

They had nothing. It’d been over a week, and they had absolutely nothing. And time was running out. Time was running out, and sooner or later he’d have to watch everything fall apart again.

He had the feeling it would hurt a little more this time around. Whatever the hell the universe thought it was, it sure was cruel. He sat on one of the benches, holding his face in his hands. Damn it.

He  _ liked _ being alive. Maybe he didn’t always act like it, but these last few days, getting to experience life again... He really couldn’t think of anything better.

Was that so wrong? It was like everything was bent in a way so he couldn’t keep anything. What was the point of having a life if he was just going to lose it again immediately? What was the point of spending all this time with Red if-

He almost didn’t want to try anymore. Wanted to let himself live a lie, just for a little bit. It was so much easier. With a sigh, Joey stood up. He’d better get back. If he sulked here any longer, the guy who’d let him in would start to get suspicious.

The man in question looked up from his weightlifting as Joey went back into the main gym. “You find your card?”

“Er, nah,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “I think someone else might’ve accidentally picked it up.”

“That’s a bummer. I think a replacement’s free, though. You just need to call in or fill out a form online.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” He had absolutely no intention of doing so. Red was waiting just inside the door, near the entrance, her coat dripping water on the hardwood floor. He nodded at her. “Looks like you found a way in after all.”

“I’ve had some practice.” But when she saw his face, concern flitted through her gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“I  _ really _ liked that keycard,” he muttered, dodging the question. Before she said anything else, he pushed the door open, gesturing his head. “After you.”

She hesitated a moment before complying, and he followed her out.

They ended up just wandering the streets in silence aimlessly, passing by countless storefronts and apartment complexes. The streets were pretty empty. Joey couldn’t hear much more than their footsteps on the damp pavement, or the occasional passing car. Red still looked over at him occasionally, but his own eyes remained glued to the ground. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he spoke again.

“Peter wasn’t there.”

She turned her head back to him, curious. “Peter?”

“The spook. The room was empty.” He kicked at a small drift of snow. “I don’t know how much time we’ve got left.” The last time he’d seen Lia, she’d been alive. He had no idea if that had changed since. Who knew what Madeline was capable of. George was dead. Probably had been taken, too. There was a chance Heather was the only spook still remaining.

“There’s got to be something we can do,” Red insisted, but he could hear the resolve in her voice waver.

He stopped walking. “I want to think so, sweetheart. I really do.”

“But you don’t.” 

He couldn’t answer that. As long as he didn’t say it out loud, it didn’t have to be real. Or maybe he was just telling himself that.

“Please, Joey,” she insisted. “Just tell me. What did we do last time?”

His gaze didn’t move from the ground. “I can’t, Red. I  _ can’t _ . Believe me, if there was something that would help if you knew it, I would’ve said it by now.” He sighed, brow furrowing. “Trust me. I’m doing this for you.”

She walked in front of him, grabbing his hands. “I know. But I’m asking for  _ your _ sake.”

After a moment, he lifted his head to look at her, concern written all over her face. No, it wasn’t just concern. There was care in those eyes. A lot of it. And maybe that scared him a little. But at the same time... He squeezed her hands. “You’ve done a lot. Really.”

“But it isn’t enough.”

“At this point, I don’t think anything would be.”

She paused a moment before pulling him in, wrapping her arms around him. “How’s this?”

Huh. She really was persistent, wasn’t she? Numbly, he returned the embrace, holding her tight. “It’s a start.” God, he didn’t want to lose her. Not after all this. “Red, I... I just want to tell you. If this goes south, and I don’t get the chance...” He sighed, almost glad she couldn’t see his face at the moment. “I know we didn’t exactly choose to be stuck with one another. But for what it’s worth, I’m glad it was you.”

She took a moment to absorb the information. “...Joey?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe it wasn’t a choice then. But it is one now.”

“What, because I’m alive?”

“Yes.”

...Was she going to chuck him off a bridge? She’d better not. They still had things to do. He hoped. God, did he  _ hope _ .

“And maybe it’s stupid to say this, considering everything going on at the moment, but, at this point, I don’t think I could imagine not having you around.”

He paused for a moment, letting her words sink in. “You don’t think it’s a little early to propose marriage?”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled. “It wasn’t stupid. Not at all. But, uh, you wanna continue this conversation somewhere warmer?”

Red shivered, stepping back to rub her hands together. “Took you long enough. I’m pretty sure my fingers are about to fall off.”

“You know you can just go inside, right? I’m not stopping you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Right. I’m not stupid enough to leave you alone.”

“Hm.” He supposed he’d earned that. “Well, we’ve got a full evening ahead of us.” Maybe the last one they had left. But he tried to force a grin regardless. If it really was their last night on earth, he had better things to do than mope. “Ladies’ choice.”

* * *

“Gotta say,” Joey said, resting an arm casually around Rosa’s shoulders, “this isn’t exactly what I was picturing.”

They were huddled under a blanket on the couch with lights turned off. In one hand, she cradled a mug of coffee, the steam emitting from it fogging up her glasses. Her other hand held the TV remote, which finally worked now that Joey wasn’t dead (she had nearly been as surprised as he’d been when she’d managed to use it to switch the TV on). Thankfully, the batteries hadn’t died. She wasn’t exactly sure where she’d put the last package of them she had bought. Not to mention that had probably been years ago.

She was now pointing the remote at the screen, scrolling through their potential watch options. The DVR catalog was meager at best. She hadn’t managed to record much recently. For reasons. She snuck a glance back at Joey, who looked a little disgruntled under the faint glow of the television. Whatever. He’d let her pick what they were doing, so he could deal with the consequences.

She flipped through a few more episodes of various shows, stopping on a teen drama. “What about this one?”

He looked over the screen briefly, scowl growing deeper. “Aren’t you a little too old for that?”

“Come on, Joey, it’ll be fun.”

“For  _ you _ , maybe.”

She grinned at him, attempting her best puppy dog face. “Please?” To be honest, she probably just looked like she’d gotten something in her eyes, but his scowl melted away regardless.

“I don’t really get a say in this, do I?”

“No,” she said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “You don’t.”

“Thought as much.” He reached over and grabbed the mug, lifting the brim to his lips to take a sip. His face scrunched up nearly immediately. “Ugh. That’s awful. How much sugar did you put in that?”

“Well, I didn’t make it for you,” she said, pulling it back to take a sip of her own. “If you wanted something, you should’ve asked.”

“Alright, point taken.”

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the highest quality coffee, but she hadn’t exactly had a lot of time for shopping recently. She would’ve picked a cup up from one of the nearby coffee stands if money wasn’t already so tight. At least rent wasn’t due for another... She glanced briefly at her phone. ...eight days. Ugh. She hit play on the show, leaning back as the theme song played. She’d have to deal with that later. But at the very least, it didn’t have to be at this second.

* * *

“Why would she say that?” Joey muttered, shaking his head. “You can’t claim a color- How old are these characters supposed to be again?”

“Sixteen.”

“You’re kidding. Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” Rosa insisted.

He squinted at the screen as the scene continued. “That gal has got to be at least twenty-two.”

“Twenty-five, actually,” she corrected, scrolling over the show’s IMDb page.

“Let me guess. You looked that up on your gizmo.”

“Surprised?”

He grimaced. “No. Hell, if you told me that thing could cure every disease known to man, I might believe you.”

Rosa couldn’t help but laugh. “Not yet.”

Joey rolled his eyes. “Not  _ yet _ ,” he muttered.

As she went to put the phone back down, her eyes caught the time. Yikes. It was getting late already. How much of this show had they watched? 

“Hey, Red,” Joey said, standing up as the credits rolled. “I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah,” she replied as she paused it, getting up to switch the lights on. She blinked a few times in the sudden light, noticing something by the door. A package. She must’ve missed it that morning. She picked it up, frowning at the label. The sender’s address was from the Dragon Tree. Kevin’s family? Opening the top of the package revealed several neatly tied bundles of dark purple petals along with a note. She had no idea whether the tea would do anything on its own, but it might be worth a shot. The note didn’t say much. It was written by Kevin’s dad, wishing them well. For whatever they thought they were doing. She wasn’t even so sure herself, anymore. At that moment, her phone went off, and she pulled it out, opening up the new email she’d received. Her eyes narrowed as soon as she saw the sender. Was this from... She had to read over it another few times to confirm. ...Father Michael? The contents of the email itself made her stomach drop, eyes going wide. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. She looked back up at the sound of the door opening again. “Joey, we need to talk.”

He walked over, head tilted. “What’s going on?”

“I got an email from Father Michael. He says that Madeline’s making a move tonight.”

“A move,” he stated, brow furrowing.

“He says she’ll be at the cemetery. He’s asking us for help.

His expression darkened nearly instantly. “No.”

“Joey-“

“We’re not-“ He gritted his teeth, hands balling up. “Come on, you know this is ridiculous! We don’t have a clue what to do, going now is practically suicidal!”

Rosa shook her head incredulously. “What else are we supposed to do? Stay here and keep pretending that nothing’s wrong?”

Joey’s shoulders fell slightly as he averted his gaze. “If that’s what it takes.“ He put a hand up to his brow, squeezing his eyes shut. “I was supposed to know, Red. I was supposed to know what to do because I’ve  _ been _ through it all already, but I don’t know a damn thing.”

“We never do. We just try to do the best we can.”

There was raw pain shining in his eyes when he opened them again. “The difference is I can see how it’s going to end. And I don’t want to- I can’t  _ do _ that again.”

“There’s a man asking for our help, Joey.”

He shook his head. “If he’s even the one who sent it.

“Even so,” she insisted. “I can’t in good conscience ignore that.”

“I know. I  _ know _ , believe me. I know I can’t stop you. I just wish...” He let out a shaky breath. “Do what you have to. I’ll be right behind you. Even if I have to die again, at least I can be there for you.”

“It doesn’t have to end that way,” she insisted, grabbing his shoulder. “At the end of the day, Madeline’s still human. We can talk to her.”

He shook his head. “I'm sorry, but I’m a little past believing that, darling.”

Did he really have to be so thick-headed? “Here,” she said, going to pick up the package of tea. “Maybe this would change your mind.”

He took it from her hands, looking it over. “What is it?”

“It’s from Kevin’s dad. He sent us some tea.”

“The one we drank to summon the dragon?” he asked, peering into the box.

“Yeah. Hibiscus rue, I think.” According to the note, anyway.

“And how is this supposed to change my mind, exactly?”

“It could give us a chance. We might be able to see Madeline, at least. Properly, I mean. The dragon said we were in a realm between the physical and spiritual, which I think is why you were... glowing.”

“Uh huh.”

“We need every chance we can get, Joey.”

“And what if it doesn’t take us to this ‘realm’ without the ritual? It’s a sleep aid, isn’t it? What if we just get knocked out for the next eight hours or so?”

“Then you get what you wanted. We die along with the rest of Manhattan, and you don’t have to see it happen.”

His fingers squeezed the packaging, knuckles white with effort. “This is a trap, Red, you’ve got to realize that.”

“I know. But it’s our only option.”

He didn’t respond immediately, sighing as some of the tension left his shoulders. Looking up, he met her gaze. “You really want to do this?”

“No,” she answered truthfully. “But I have to.”

He nodded, holding the package out to her. “Get the kettle on, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we are gradually closing in on a final act. I think. I don't really know what an act consists of.  
> Uhhh, fun fact: I recruited a friend of mine for the not-so-subtle show reference.  
> To the 1/4 of a person reading this, if you leave a comment, it'll make my day ;) (But by no means feel obligated to)


	13. The Bargain

A little while later, they were both sitting on the bed, cups of tea on the nightstand, untouched. “So,” Rosa said, looking over. “I guess this is it.”

“I guess so.” Joey looked drawn inward, eyes unfocused, posture slouched.

“Is there anything you want to say before we...? Well, before we drink these, I guess.”

“What’s there to say?” he muttered.

She looked back at the cups, steam gently trailing away from them. “I don’t know. I just thought it might be our last chance to talk. I know we can’t stay here forever, but a few minutes couldn’t hurt, could it?”

“If you wanted a speech, I haven’t got one.” 

A single glance at his face told her he was lying.

“Joey...”

“I-“ His voice broke on the word, and he buried his face in his hands. “Damn it. I don’t know what to  _ say _ , Red. I knew from the day your aunt lost it that I’d have to see it again. No matter how long you lived, no matter what kind of life you had, I’d have to watch you-“

His breath hitched, and she took the opportunity to move closer, wrapping her arms around him. It was another few moments before he managed his next line.

“It would’ve been easier to not care at all, but, apparently, I can’t do that.”

“You... didn’t want to care about me?” The fact didn’t exactly surprise her, given the way he used to act around her, but hearing it out loud was another thing. 

“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? Now you’re the only damn thing I can think about. Jesus, I’m sorry. If it wasn’t for me-“

“Don’t talk like that. You know this wasn’t your choice. It wasn’t anyone’s.”

He didn’t respond immediately, pulling his knees to his chest. His eyes were glazed over, staring off at something that didn’t exist. “What am I going to do, Red?” he mumbled, shaking his head. “What the hell am I going to do?”

She didn’t have an answer to that. She didn’t even know what he was thinking, really. What he’d seen. It must’ve been really bad for it to have broken him like this, with the events constantly following him around. She honestly didn’t want to think too much about it herself, about the fact that she was probably going to end up seeing what he already had. That there was a good chance they wouldn’t be coming back. This was it. The point of no return. And despite how much she might’ve wanted to stay, they couldn’t give up now. Rosa took a deep breath, picking up her cup. “We do the only thing we can do.”

“Wait.” Joey lifted his head from his arms, conflicted. “I don’t want this to be the way I remember this moment. Assuming I get the chance to remember it at all, that is.” Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, fingers cupping the side of her face. She couldn’t quite read his expression. But she had a pretty good idea of what he wanted.

It was gentler than the last kiss they’d shared, more deliberation behind the motion as he moved closer to her. He was warm, she couldn’t help thinking as she melted into the embrace. She’d never really associated him with being warm before. The only way they’d really interacted was his icy breath on the back of her neck or those times he’d handed her his tie, which certainly hadn’t been warm by any means.

It was nice, really. She’d never been one to enjoy human contact, or even human company to some extent. And now he was warm, like a blanket fresh out of the dryer. She wouldn’t mind getting used to this.

When they separated, the look in his eyes had softened, eyes lingering on her face. “After this,” he mumbled, as if the words were just falling out of his mouth, “we should take a vacation.”

“We can’t afford a vacation,” she said reflexively.

The hint of a smile crossed his features, thumb stroking her cheek. “Well, it doesn’t need to be anything fancy. We could ride the ferry back and forth a few times, try to sneak a glimpse of a baseball game from one of the neighbors’ rooftops. Watch more of that crap you call television.”

She tried imagining doing any of those mundane activities, a smile spreading across her face. “I think I’d like that.”

“I thought you might.” His gaze had gone distant again.

“Are you okay?”

He blinked, shaking himself out of it. “Yeah. Let’s do this thing.”

And as she picked the cup back up and raised it to her lips, she realized she didn’t mind that the tea had gone lukewarm.

* * *

The redness in her vision didn’t shock Rosa as much as it had the first time. It was almost a relief, really. The tea had worked. She didn’t think they could take another setback. Well, at least Joey definitely couldn’t. She looked over at him, sighing. He was still out cold. A quick glance at her phone told her it’d only been an hour since they’d drunk the tea. He was probably still going to be out for at least a few more.

Ugh. It had probably been the caffeine. She’d just have to wake him up again. But when she reached out a hand to shake him, she found herself hesitating. It wasn’t a question that Joey had a lot of reservations about the situation. Rosa had the feeling a breeze in the wrong direction would get him to snap. Seeing Madeline again wouldn’t end up being ideal for either of them. He mumbled something unintelligible, rolling over. Sighing, she sat on the edge of the bed, his words from earlier still in her head.

_ “What am I going to do, Red? What the hell am I going to do?” _

Drat. He wasn’t going to like this. And she’d probably hear about it for weeks afterward. But, it was better this way, right? He wouldn’t have to deal with... well, whatever she was getting herself into. Any negotiations might be made a little easier, at the very least. She probably wouldn’t be able to get a single word in if she brought him with her. God, the more she reasoned it, the worse it sounded in her head. It would be fine. Just... fine. He hadn’t wanted to come, anyway. Even though they usually did everything as a team, if she went alone just this once...

She sighed, rubbing her eyes before putting on her glasses. This was a terrible idea. Getting off the bed, she took one more glance back at Joey, still sleeping soundly.

“I’m really sorry about this,” she said to him as if that made what she was about to do any better. “I’ll be back soon.”

* * *

Walking through the streets was strange, to say the least. Every single person had been replaced with floating apparitions, just like the ghosts they’d seen so far. Rosa assumed that If there were any actual ghosts around, she’d be able to see them how she usually would. But, at least for the time being, the streets of New York looked relatively un-haunted.

She was rather proud of that fact, to be honest. Not that anyone else could really appreciate it, but it made what they did seem tangible. Well, what they used to do, anyway. She glanced briefly back in the direction she’d come from, pace quickening. It felt like walking away from a bomb about to explode. If Joey found out what she was doing... No. The only good outcome of this was if she managed to solve this before he caught up.

As she neared the cemetery, the crowds of wisps gradually reduced, with no one in sight by the time she reached the gates. Maybe that was for the better. Even if they couldn’t see her, having people around would just complicate things more than they already were.

Rosa wandered around the seemingly endless rows of headstones, a chill running down her spine. She wished the email had been more specific about the location. The cemetery was huge. There was no way she’d find them just wandering around like this. Rosa stopped walking, sighing. At least nothing earth-shatteringly horrible seemed to be happening at the moment. Was there even anything here at all? A light breeze swept by and she shivered, trying to shrink further into her coat. It was  _ ridiculously _ cold at the moment. She couldn’t tell if it was a ghostly chill or just the weather.

Wait a second. There was a faint, rhythmic sound in the distance. She couldn’t really place it. Like a spoon in a bowl of dry cereal. Or...

She froze as it dawned on her. A shovel digging up dirt. In the middle of the night. Crap. She didn’t have a choice. Gritting her teeth, she headed toward the sound.

It wasn’t long before she could see the glowing shape of a woman floating near one of the headstones, a shapeless wisp beside her. Madeline. Beside the wisp, a shovel made its way up and down, each trip flinging another batch of dirt onto a rapidly growing pile.

Why were they digging up a grave? And whose-

No way. It couldn’t be. The headstone was small, worn from nearly a century of being exposed to the elements. If she didn’t already know what it said, the carved letters would’ve been practically unreadable under the snow.

God, she had no idea he was even buried here. Honestly, she didn’t think  _ he _ knew either. Was there still anything down there? Did she even want to find out? Her stomach turned. No. She didn’t. She really didn’t.

“Blackwell,” Madeline called out, making Rosa practically jump out of her own skin. “I was wondering if you would come.” The ghost scanned the area, eyes narrowed. “And without Mallone, I see.”

Rosa took a shaky breath as she stepped forward, heart hammering in her throat. “I thought it would be better for us to speak one-on-one.”

Madeline regarded her coolly. “As you wish. What would you like to discuss?”

_ Okay. Just don’t screw this up.  _ “I’ve heard about what you’ve been planning. I’m here to ask you to reconsider.”

“My,” she said, amused. “What has your guide been telling you? And how much of that have you seen with your own eyes?”

“I know you’re the one who shot him.” Which, in all other circumstances, would be enough to lock someone up for at least a handful of years.

“It was... a lapse in judgment.”

Madeline looked almost genuinely remorseful. Rosa wasn’t sure if it was because she actually felt bad, or if she just regretted possibly blowing her chances. Or maybe Madeline had actually intended on killing Joey. It wasn’t like Rosa could stop her from holding his ghost hostage. Or tearing it apart. Okay, it was probably better not to go down that train of thought.

“I understand that you’re desperate, but there has to be a better way.”

Madeline contemplated this for a moment before responding. “Are you aware how long I was trapped in the void, with nothing to do but wait for the slightest glimpse of a chance to leave?”

“You’re out now. Isn’t that enough?”

Her smile gradually faded, mouth setting into a hard line. “Let me ask you this. Would you say that you and your guide have an amicable relationship?”

“Yes, I would.” Maybe a little more than that now, but that was beside the point. God, she hoped she wasn’t visibly blushing. Though her cheeks were probably already pink from the cold.

“And yet you abandoned him. Much in the same manner as I was.”

“I...“ Crap, she’d practically forgotten about that already. “That wasn’t me.”

“It was a part of you. You cannot deny that.”

Okay, but it wasn’t like she had wanted to get rid of  _ Joey _ . It was the grind. The never-ending stream of dead people. The fact she was practically sentenced for the rest of her life to unemployed social isolation.

Madeline smiled. “I know what you are thinking, Blackwell. Believe me, I have heard it all before. It was the life. You could not fathom having to perform the duty indefinitely, even if it was only until the end of your mortal life. Now, put yourself in my position. How much would you still want to perform your role knowing that you may be cast away into oblivion at any moment, even by a host you have a positive relationship with? How much would you want to serve after spending nearly a century in darkness?”

Rosa hesitated. Of course she wouldn’t want to keep saving ghosts. But... “Someone has to do the job.”

Madeline’s smile curled just a little wider. “I see. What a shame.”

“That still doesn’t excuse what you’ve been doing,” Rosa continued. “What you’ve already done. You’re making Michael dig up a  _ grave _ right now. Does that not seem wrong to you?”

“It is what is necessary. If it was not for your guide’s stubbornness, it would not have to be.”

“Is Michael even aware of what’s going on right now? That you’re making him do this?”

“No. I thought it better for it to be this way. It would lessen the trauma inflicted upon him. It is not my intention to harm him, after all.”

Right. Rosa looked back at the wispy figure, continuing to dig away. Not traumatizing at all.

“I am tired, Blackwell,” Madeline sighed. “So very tired. I have spent many years waiting in contemplation. Do you really think that if there was a ‘better way’ that I would not have found it by now?”

Rosa hated to admit it, but there was a good chance Madeline was right. She and Joey hadn’t found an alternative, after all. Nothing that he was willing to tell her, anyway. And as she looked away, the continuous digging was the only sound left hanging in the air.

* * *

Urgh... Joey opened his eyes, blinking a few times as red flooded his vision. As jarring as ever.  _ I guess it’s time. _ Whatever time that happened to be. The only clock in the apartment was broken, anyway. Red probably had the time on her... He rolled over, arm grasping nothing but air. Had she..?

“Red?”

He scanned the room warily, getting up. Nothing. The lights in the living room weren’t on, either. But there was still a chance... 

He walked over and opened the door into darkness.

“...Sweetheart?”

She’d really done it, hadn’t she? She’d left without him.

Damn it. She had no idea what she was getting herself into. Concern gnawed away in his chest. _ God, it better not be too late.  _ He didn’t know how long it had been. He  _ wished _ he knew. What if she was bleeding out somewhere, and he couldn’t get there in time? He had to move quicker, had to get there faster somehow. He got dressed in a hurry, throwing his coat over his clothes as he ran out the door.

Why did it always end up like this? No matter what he did, no matter what he said, it was never good enough. Was he just doomed to make the same mistakes over and over again? He glanced briefly at the sky as he exited the complex. No giant vortex. That was good. That meant there was still time. He had no idea how much, but it wasn’t over yet. He took a deep breath before taking off in the direction of the cemetery, trying to ignore the persistent stinging pain in his midriff.

It wasn’t over yet.

* * *

Rosa had no idea what to do. She was just standing there. In a cemetery, in the middle of the night, snow piling on everything in sight, herself included, watching a ghost force a priest to dig up the grave of a man who wasn’t dead anymore. A man who she might be dating now. God, this was convoluted. How deep was the hole now? Two feet? Three? Too deep, either way. Michael was in past his knees now. Or where she could approximate his knees to be. It was hard to tell.

“How long are you going to keep doing this?

Madeline hadn’t taken her eyes off of her, expression eerily placid given the situation. “Until I get what I need.”

Rosa had always associated her demeanor as being a result of her age, wisdom from experience leading to a lack of visible emotion. It never occurred to her that there was a chance Madeline just didn’t feel anything at all.

“Joey told me you were willing to destroy Manhattan to get what you want. Do you really think this is worth millions of lives?”

Madeline smiled, the expression not reaching her eyes. “And do you believe what your guide said?”

“I trust him.” Rosa was almost surprised by the certainty of the statement that came out of her mouth. She knew there was still a lot Joey hadn’t told her. But for some reason, it didn’t seem to matter much anymore. “We can help you, Madeline. Tell Michael to stop digging.” There had to be  _ something _ she could say. The only alternative was... nothing. There wasn’t one. The night suddenly somehow felt even colder.

“And what exactly do you think you are offering?”

“Um...”

“You no longer have your gift, if I am not mistaken. There is nothing unordinary about either yourself or Mallone. I see no reason to pursue this line of thinking.”

Okay, she had a point. But there was still one edge they had. “There’s still one soul you haven’t collected. Heather Goffstein.”

Michael’s spirit seemed to shift a little at the sound of Heather’s name, Madeline’s frown growing deeper. Huh. Rosa quirked up an eyebrow. Maybe there was a way she could get through to him. Whatever Madeline was doing to control him didn’t seem to be infallible.

“You don’t know what happened to her. Neither does Father Michael. But I do.”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

“Maybe so. But you could either give me a chance or keep digging up a set of century-old bones.” She was surprising herself now. She’d never thought she could stand up to anyone like this, let alone someone like Madeline. Joey might’ve been proud of her if he was here to see it. He was always annoyed that she ‘didn’t have half the backbone her aunt had’. She wondered what he would say now. Something like-

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tad too MacGuffiny? Maybe. Anyway, my reasoning was that whether or not the tea does anything other than make people fall asleep was on account of being void-touched.


	14. Shattered to Pieces

For once, Joey was speechless. He could hardly take in what he was seeing before him. One thought was just pounding in his head, over and over, relief washing over him like a flood. She was okay. She was okay. She- what the hell had she been thinking?

Red was staring at him, wide-eyed with a mixture of guilt and surprise, arms by her sides. Stunned, she took a step forward. “I had to try, Joey. I’m sorry.”

His eyes darted back and forth between her and Madeline, who was watching him with narrowed eyes.

“Mallone. I see you survived our last encounter.”

Yeah. No thanks to her. He glared back, muscles stiffening. “It takes more than a bullet to keep me down.”

A thin smile permeated her features. “You are correct. If I recall correctly, the last time, it took several.”

He’d seen it briefly, that day. He couldn’t remember much of what had happened, but he remembered that sight. The front desk of his shop, peppered with bullet holes. He could only assume anything that hadn’t lodged into the wood had hit him. He looked back at Madeline, scowling.

And  _ she’d _ been there. Blood rushed to his ears as his hands balled up. “You-“ But as he stepped forward, a hand grabbed his wrist.

“Joey. Don’t.” Red was staring at him, eyes silently pleading.

“ _ Don’t _ ? She-“ He stepped away from her, the movement forcing her to let go. “Do you have  _ any _ idea-“

“Calm down,” she insisted. But he was feeling just about anything  _ but _ calm right about now.

“You didn’t see what she  _ did _ , Red. You didn’t-“

“Joey!” She took a step toward him. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing right now isn’t going to solve anything.”

“Well, then tell me,” he spat. “Tell me, Red. What’s gonna solve this?”

“I...”

“No. You don’t know. So don’t act like I’m wrong for-“ He shook his head, turning away. “Forget it.”

“Joey.”

He didn’t turn back around.

“Joey, you’re bleeding.”

As if on cue, he could suddenly feel it. An icy patch of dark red on his stomach, slowly spreading across the front of his shirt. A nice reminder of what had resulted from the last time he’d seen Madeline. So, maybe Red hadn’t been entirely wrong about his methods being ineffective. “Look, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I just... I just want to know, Joey. What aren’t you still telling me?”

“I-” He couldn’t get the words out. “Red, I-“

“Indeed, Mallone,” Madeline said as she raised a hand. To his horror, Red lifted into the air, her boots dangling uselessly over the ground. “Do enlighten us.”

“ _ No _ ,” he whispered, stumbling forward. “Put her down.” It was like a bad dream, images of what he’d already been through flashing through his head. He hadn’t been able to do anything then, couldn't do anything but watch from the other side of the protection circle as she’d collapsed, ghostly particles streaming into her mouth. When she’d gotten up, the light in her eyes had gone cold.

“Perhaps you require further motivation,” Madeline continued, that same light shining in her eyes now.

He gritted his teeth. “I’ll talk.”

Red let out a muffled yelp, squirming in place. He didn’t even want to think of what had happened to her.

“I said I’ll talk, damn it!”

Red’s eyes were about bugging out of her head, now. She was afraid. Of course she was. So was he, after all. Madeline could kill them both in an instant if she wanted to. The only thing that stood in the way was what he was about to say. And he knew if he said a single wrong word, it was all over. Joey took a shaky breath.

“Madeline’s been up to the same shtick for years,” he muttered, eyes trained on the ground. “Decades. I should’ve seen it long before I did. But I didn’t care much for your grandma, so I didn’t think much of it when she went cuckoo. It didn’t make a difference whether she was in a coma or not, it wasn’t like anyone was going to talk to me either way.” He sighed, looking back up at Red.

She was looking back, but she wasn’t moving. He didn’t think she could. So he kept talking. After all, it was the only thing he was good for.

“I didn’t realize it was a pattern until your aunt lost it. Maybe a part of me blamed you for what happened to her. But you were a kid. You didn’t know better. And Lauren knew what she was doing.” He paused, trying to remember the headstrong woman. She’d been so sure of herself, then. He hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise. “She thought she did, anyway.”

“You are stalling, Mallone.”

“I’m telling the whole story,” he shot back. “She deserves to hear it.” He looked at Red, trying to read her expression. “I’ve kept it to myself long enough.”

To his surprise, Madeline didn’t bother interjecting again. So he looked back at Red, questions swirling behind her eyes.

“When Madeline was in the void, she wasn’t entirely separated from the real world. There were a few minds she could interact with. Minds of Bestowers. She found out that there was a way for her to hijack someone’s head, to take their body as her own. She tried it with your aunt, and she tried it with your grandma. But their minds snapped under the pressure. You’ve already seen the results of that yourself.” Joey paused to take a deep breath. “And then she tried it with you. And it worked.”

Red let out a sound. A gasp, maybe? He wasn’t sure. Madeline wasn’t letting her say anything, either way. So he continued.

“We went around for days, you and I, corralling Michael’s dead friends like a pair of obedient dogs. Then she tore apart their souls. Killed Father Michael, too. And then... she took you. And I panicked. I didn’t know what to do, Red. I pushed her out of you without even thinking of what it would do to you. And the instant I did, you... you snapped. Just like Lauren. Just like Patricia. I thought that was it, you know. When we got stuck in that damned asylum. That’s where it always ended, after all. Twenty-five years of solitude. Twenty-five years of watching doctors take notes on something they didn’t understand, of watching them stick needles into you, of watching the life gradually fade out of you over the years.”

There were no responses this time, the only audible sound being the wind gently blowing past them, quickly hushed by the surrounding snow. Joey was pretty sure the blood on his shirt had already frozen to his skin. At least he didn’t have to worry about bleeding out.

“I don’t know what you did. I don’t know if I ever will. But you made it back somehow. And when you did, you had the power of the universe at your fingertips. You knew things you shouldn’t have. But whatever it was, you... you saved them all. Every spook in the world. All of them. Madeline included.” He paused, sighing. “Every spook besides me. But it was fine. I... I thought it was fine.” His shoulders slumped in, expression falling. “I was wrong. You... died. And I couldn’t do anything about it. Couldn’t do more than watch you fall to your knees in the snow and-“ He took a second to catch his breath, shaking his head. “But, before you...  _ left _ , you...” He gestured silently at himself. There wasn’t anything else left to say.

Madeline was still floating there, face expressionless as ever. Not that it surprised him. Whatever heart she had left probably had frozen over long ago.

“Are you happy now?” he asked, voice a hollow shell of what it’d been even moments ago.

“You have given me very little to be ‘happy’ about.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “Likewise.”

“The only thing I’ve gathered is that neither of you are of any use to me any longer.”

Joey’s head snapped up. He didn’t like that edge in her voice. “Don’t you dare.”

“You may say that after all this time, things have become rather... personal.”

“If that’s the case, it’s between you and me. Leave Red out of it.”

As Madeline contemplated this, a smile slowly spread across her face. “How... interesting.”

“Interesting?” This couldn’t be anything good. It never was, with this broad. “I told you to put her down. So, if you’d just do that, we can-“

“In all my years, I have never seen someone pervert the duty as you have.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I am not so blind as to not recognize affection, Mallone. I know you better than you may realize.”

He scowled back. “You don’t know me at all.”

Her smile didn’t waver. If anything, it only grew more sinister. “The softness in your voice. I have heard it before. When you mentioned your assistant. What was his name?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he growled, shoulders stiffening. “Just leave us alone.” How the hell did she still remember this?

“You were just like any other lost soul, Mallone. My, how things have changed.”

“It’s not my fault you never found anyone worth living for.”

Her smile dropped instantly. “You have grown to be quite the irritation.”

Despite it all, he found himself grinning back. “Oh, don’t worry. The feeling’s mutual. And look who’s talking, anyway. The shoo-in for ‘worst spirit guide of the year’ herself.”

Madeline didn’t respond immediately, expression darkening. Hell if he cared. At least if he got under her skin-

“You are foolish, Mallone. So very foolish.” And with a flick of her wrist, Red went flying, her body hitting the next headstone over with a sickening thunk before going still.

Joey couldn’t breathe, muscles freezing up as the world started to close in on him. “No...” He stumbled toward her, falling to his knees in the snow. “Red. Sweetheart, talk to me. Talk to me, damn it, you can’t-“ He choked on the words, hand trembling as he reached out for her. “Not this... Not again.”

Blood was running down her face from a nasty-looking gash on the side of her head, dripping bright red dots onto the white powder.

“Come on, darling,” he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. “Get up. I still need you.” 

She couldn’t be dead. Not after everything they’d just been through, not after all this time. Maybe he hadn’t tried hard enough. Maybe if he’d just taken a second to  _ think- _

This was his fault. All of this was his fault. If he’d just stayed away that first night, if he’d never told her about any of this...

He kept waiting. Hoping that she’d suddenly open her eyes, pop up and say ‘gotcha’,  _ anything _ . But she didn’t move. And he didn’t think she was about to anytime soon.

Numbly, he pressed his fingers to her neck, leaving splotchy red fingerprints behind. If she had a pulse, his fingers were far too frozen to be able to tell.

“We are finished here,” Madeline said, floating closer. “I apologize that it has had to come to this.”

“No,” Joey forced out through gritted teeth. He could feel rage bubbling up like boiling water, consuming him. “You don’t get to just walk away.”

He hadn’t expected his fist to connect with anything at all, but the impact had felt solid, and when he pulled away, Madeline was holding her face, shaking with a mixture of shock and rage.

“I said, we are  _ finished _ . Do not test me further.”

“We’re done when I say we’re done,” he spat, going in for a second punch. This time, his fist was stopped inches away from her.

“Will you never learn?” Madeline demanded, agitation creeping into her voice.

Joey sneered back. “Nah. If this is what they taught you in spirit guide school, I’m glad I missed out on it. I’d hate to ever end up like you.”

“Impudent fool.”

He heard the sound a millisecond before he felt it. The crunch of the bones in his hand breaking apart.

“Argh!”

He’d hardly processed the pain when he felt an invisible grip around his collar, lifting him off the ground.

Madeline looked up at him, a thin smile on her now bruised face. “Are you certain you want to continue down this path?”

“I don’t have a choice,” he seethed, echoing the sentiment Red had expressed earlier that night. “Either I die here, or I die when you vaporize everyone. And I’m not about to run, Maddy. Not from you.”

“I appreciate your tenacity, though I regret to inform you that your efforts shall be in vain.”

He knew this wasn’t going to work. Of course he did. But what else was he supposed to do? “Your face says otherwise.” 

He could feel pressure building up in his chest, culminating in another painful snap, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped for air, writhing with about as much leeway as she’d given him. God, had she really..? This was just a game to her. And he was the unlucky ragdoll.

“Struggling to breathe, Mallone?” Madeline asked. “I imagine it cannot be easy with a punctured lung.” She brought him closer to her, expression as cold as ever. “Give up.”

Joey spat into the snow, the saliva that escaped his lips tinted pink. He was going to die here, wasn’t he? None of this had been worth anything. None of it at all. Because of one friggin’ spook. “Damn you,” he choked, chest burning as he drew a ragged breath. “Damn you to-hrk!” The sounds of yet another snapped rib ricocheted in his ears.

“That one pierced your heart.”

She was right, he realized. Everything felt like it was shutting down, limbs falling limp, the strength sucked out of him in an instant. He couldn’t respond, could hardly do more than make choking noises that served as a pathetic excuse for breathing.

And as his body hit the ground, he couldn’t help wondering if this was what it had felt like the first time. He could hardly remember anymore. Spooks tended to block out their own deaths, anyway. He should’ve figured he wasn’t any different. He never had been anything special, anyway. 

The snow had started falling again at some point, flakes clinging to his wet cheeks as his eyes stared blankly at the darkened sky.  _ I’m sorry, Red. I’m so, so sorry. _

_ What a stupid way to die. _

And as everything started to fade out, he could barely make out movement at the edge of his vision.

* * *

Rosa opened her eyes groggily, cheek pressed into the snow. Urgh, her head. What had just happened? She pushed herself off the ground, unfocused eyes taking in a blurry plane of white, spattered with red. Was that..? When she reached up to feel the wound, her hand came away coated in blood. Yep. That was definitely hers. _ Come on, Rosa, think. What just happened? _ She’d been suspended in the air. Joey had been talking. He- where was he? She could hardly see a thing without her glasses. Cautiously, she patted the ground around her in an attempt to locate them. Nothing. 

It was quiet, she suddenly realized. Too quiet.

“...Joey?” She found him sprawled out a few feet away from her, a thin trail of bloody saliva running from his mouth. The blurry object she presumed was his hat was lying yet another foot away. “ _ Joey _ ?”

He made a sort of gurgling noise as she got closer, eyes listlessly wandering over to her face.

“Oh my God.” He was alive, if only barely. “Don’t try to talk. I’ll- I’ll call for help. They can have an ambulance here in-“

He grabbed her arm, shaking his head. “Not... gonna... make it.” Every word was punctuated by a strangled gasp for air.

“I’m not giving up on you,” she insisted. “You’ve barely had any time to live, you can’t-“

He smiled weakly. “It‘s... okay.”

“I... I’m not ready,” she whispered. Her already blurry vision was obscured by tears, mixing with her blood as they dripped onto the fabric of his already stained shirt. “Stay. Please?”

He chuckled once, the gesture broken up by increasingly laborious breathing. “C’mere.” When she leaned in, he reached up to her face, running a thumb across her cheek. But whatever tears he managed to wipe away were quickly replaced.

“Joey-” She couldn’t think of anything to say. Nothing she could say would help.

“...Rosa.” His face contorted like he was struggling to speak, hand quivering.

“What is it?” she asked, voice hardly audible.

He grinned, but the gesture was fading even as he forced it onto his face. “... _ Live _ .” His arm went limp as the word left his lips, falling over his stomach as the light in his eyes dimmed out.

“Joey.” She grabbed his shoulder, shaking it. “Joey,  _ please _ .” But he didn’t respond. And she knew better than to try again.

Gritting her teeth, she tore her gaze away to face Madeline, who was silently floating in place. If Rosa didn’t know any better, she would’ve seemed straight-faced. Somber, even. But she could sense a sick satisfaction in Madeline’s eyes. Like she’d wanted to watch Joey die.   
“Why did you do it? He couldn’t have stopped you, anyway.”

Madeline looked down at his body, expression clouded. “If it had been my choice, it would not have come to this. He... instigated. And yet, someone who is so displaced in time is better off dead.”

Rosa doubted that he would have agreed with that sentiment.

“I will allot you the space you require to properly mourn. I suppose there are... other matters I ought to attend to.” Madeline turned around, the wisp that had once been Father Michael trailing a few paces behind her as she floated away, leaving Rosa with a dead body and the hole that had been dug for it eighty years ago. Alone.

Was it always supposed to end like this? Was there really no other way? It all made sense, now. Why Joey had been so distant. Why he’d been so certain everything would end in failure. That’s what this was, right? Failure. She sat in the snow, leaning against the gravestone that had bashed her head open. She couldn’t see it, but she knew the wound was pretty bad just judging by the amount of blood around her. And yet, she didn’t feel especially compelled to call an ambulance anymore.

“Sweetheart..?” a voice called out tentatively from behind her.

She thought it was a hallucination at first. That the blood loss was finally getting to her, that she was just conjuring up his voice because she was used to him being around. But then she heard it again.

“I need you to do something for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh... I apologize for any sadness I may have caused. >.>  
> Here. Have a completely tone-breaking comic I drew a little while back. That'll make it better.  
> [Imgur link here](https://imgur.com/W3SwwAK)  
> Honestly, out of everything in this story, this chapter has undergone by far the most poking and prodding over the months of editing. Hopefully it shows.
> 
> Not-so-fun fact: Originally, Madeline was going to literally rip Joey in half, but I decided against it for multiple reasons. Mostly because it was too brutal, and tipped her character over a little too far to the utterly deranged side.


	15. No Turning Back

Rosa couldn’t do much more than gawk as she picked herself off the ground, turning around. There he was. In front of her. Floating over his own corpse, as blue as on the day they’d met. Emotions welled up inside her, tears running freely down her face. She didn’t know _what_ she was feeling. Relief? He was still dead. His ghost looked a little worse for wear, too. The blood was gone, but his clothes were disheveled, coat hastily draped over his shoulders, suit jacket unbuttoned. She... supposed that was how it was going to stay. He’d taken off his tie, silently offering an end to her.

“Joey,” she gasped. “You’re-“

“I know.” He was gazing at her intently, expression clouded.

“You know?” She’d only ever seen one ghost realize they were dead so quickly, and that ghost had been Gavin.

“I know,” he repeated. “That’s why this,” he said, the hand with the tie extending a little further toward her, “is for you.”

“I...“ She took the other end, fingers running over the glowing fabric. “I watched you die.”

He nodded. “I was there too, sweetheart.”

Her fingers wrapped around the tie. “Do you really think this will work?”

“You’re holding it, aren’t you?” He was trying his best to smile reassuringly at her. He was doing a terrible job of it. “You know what to do. I’ll be here when you come back.” He let go of the end of the tie he was holding, stepping back to put his hands in his pockets. “I...” He hesitated, staring at her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She knew he wanted to say more. So did she, after all. But now wasn’t the time. Rosa looked back, trying to see how much ground the other pair had covered. They weren’t much more than silhouettes now, Madeline’s faintly glowing form barely visible through the falling snow. “I’m supposed to run over there with a traumatic head injury.”

“Well, your legs work fine, don’t they?” Joey hesitated, gaze softening. “I’d do it for you if I could, but...” He shook his head, sighing. “Stay safe, Red. Please.”

“I will.” Rosa took a deep breath, wrapping the tie around her hand as she walked over as briskly as she dared. “Madeline?”

“Blackwell?” Madeline questioned, turning to face her. “Why have you-“

“Come with me,” Rosa said, as she grabbed her wrist and pulled.

* * *

The pain in her head ceased the instant they entered the Nodespace, Rosa stumbling as she fell onto her knees. She was guessing things like injuries didn’t transfer to the spiritual world, though it would’ve been nice if the void could’ve given her glasses back while it was at it. She could hardly see a thing without them.

“How amusing,” Madeline commented, looking around . ”The bond was reformed upon Mallone’s death.”

“I don’t think it was ever broken,” Rosa said, standing up and brushing herself off. It made sense, in a way. The way he’d glowed back in Chinatown. The fact that ordinary people couldn’t just pass through doors at will, spirit realm or not.

“Why have you brought me here?” Madeline asked in a measured tone.

“I’m stalling.” Rosa raised her hand, closing the portal. She wasn’t exactly sure how. But she’d just known.

“For what purpose? You cannot stay here indefinitely, Blackwell. Your body will perish.”

“I can leave whenever I want, Madeline,” Rosa reminded her. “It’s my Nodespace. And I think Joey would be more than happy to leave you here.”

Madeline’s mouth hardened into a thin line. “Very well. I suppose I ought to congratulate you.”

Rosa shook her head. “I was hoping you’d be willing to help me find a better solution.”

Madeline floated silently for a while before responding. “There isn’t one, Blackwell. You must be aware of this by now.”

“I have to try.” For herself, for Joey, for everything. She had to.

Madeline eventually sighed. “I do not believe I have a choice other than to cooperate.”

“Good. At least we can agree on something.” Rosa sat on the ground, putting a hand up to her brow. God, she felt so _tired_. “Now help me think.”

* * *

What the hell was taking her so long? Joey kept floating back and forth next to her still body, waiting, watching. It was an easy job, wasn’t it? All she had to do was leave. Something _must’ve_ gone wrong. He glanced back at her quickly. The bleeding hadn’t completely stopped yet. It was a head wound, after all, of course it hadn’t. He wished he could just put something on it. Anything. Why did he have to be so damn useless? _Come on, Red. Don’t die on me._ He could hardly see her chest rising and falling under that bulky coat. Maybe it wasn’t.

Who was he kidding, anyway? He’d just died in front of her. He’d just- His eyes wandered back to where his body lay, next to the grave of whatever schmuck was... oh. He read over the faded text a few times, letting it sink in. Had this really been here this whole time?

 _At least it’s convenient_ , he thought bitterly to himself. They could just kick the body into the hole. Red wouldn’t even have to pay for a new headstone. Jesus. He shut his eyes, body trembling. Ghosts couldn’t cry. Ghosts couldn’t cry, but if they could he’d have broken down by now. He wanted to. Damn it, everything was falling apart. “Come _on_ , Red, come back,” he mumbled, looking down at her. “Come back to me.”

“...hello?”

Joey turned around to see a bewildered Father Michael, his cassock covered in dirt. He’d completely forgotten the priest had been here.

“What’s- what’s going on? How did I...? My hands...” Michael looked down, his palms covered in bloody blisters. No doubt they were caused by digging into the frozen ground.

Joey couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy. His entire life had torn apart in a matter of days. “It’s a long story.”

“I... I don’t understand.” Michael looked up at him, shaking. “You’re the man from the school. And now you’re dead.”

“Yeah. That was... a recent development.”

Michael dropped to his knees, hands grabbing his head. “My God, what is happening to me? Why am I here? What have I _done_? Was I the one who killed you?”

“No,” Joey said, averting his gaze. “You didn’t kill me. But the police are looking for you anyway. You’re wanted for murder.”

“Murder. I can’t believe it. Murder! I- how can this be _happening_ ? My _God_!”

“I’m sorry.” It was a hollow apology. There wasn’t anything he could really do. It was like watching a spook come to terms with their own death. He always hated that part. When their faces fell, when reality slapped them upside the head. Maybe it was just too familiar. But at least with the spooks he knew he could help them. This? There was nothing he could do about _this_.

“Do you know?” Michael pleaded. “Do you know what happened to me?”

Joey blinked a few times, averting his eyes. “I might know a thing or two, yeah.” Maybe there was _one_ thing he could do. “I’m, uh... I’m Joey, by the way.”

“Michael Cooper,” the priest said, voice unsteady. “But I’ve got the feeling you knew that already.”

Joey nodded. “Yeah. I guess we ought to have a little chat.”

* * *

It had been silent for the last few minutes, Rosa standing as she stared out into the purplish expanse of the void.

“I can feel them, you realize,” Madeline eventually murmured, her gaze distant. “Remnants of their souls. Their suffering. I know you likely see me as some sort of heartless monster by now. But I did what I felt was necessary at the time.”

“Was killing Joey necessary?”

Madeline paused, eyes trained on the white light in the distance. “No. It was not. Neither was harming you.”

Rosa turned away, facing where the portal would’ve been. “Then why?”

“You did not bring me here to interrogate me, did you?”

“No. But maybe I can try to understand.”

“If only understanding alone could mend things.” She sighed. “You do not have much time, Blackwell. I can sense it.”

“I know.” But she couldn’t turn back. Not now.

After a moment, Madeline nodded. “Though I regret to admit it, desperation... changes people. And I was not exempt. It was the only opportunity I had seen in nearly two centuries. It was the only thing that kept me going forward. I had to succeed. The lives became mere statistics. It was calculated, precise.”

She paused, and Rosa found herself turning back around, both intrigued and terrified. Bringing Madeline here was a gamble. She knew that. Staying here longer than a fleeting moment was a bigger one. Joey was going to kill her for this. Assuming she was going to live through this at all.

“When I met my current host,” Madeline continued, “I saw that it would require far less sacrifice than I’d feared. He and his former friends, the members of this Grace Group, had different auras from most, overflowing with energy, weaker than the typical fare. It would’ve been simple, really. I did not have to interfere with them in life, merely picking up the pieces after their deaths. No one aside from myself was ever meant to know.” Madeline’s expression darkened as she turned away. “And then Mallone complicated things.”

* * *

“So that’s it, then,” Michael muttered, still absorbing the remnants of their conversation. “My life is over.” His eyes had taken on a sunken-in appearance, complexion gone pallid from a combination of the cold and the information he’d just heard.

“You’re still alive,” Joey said, eyes trained somewhere else. Anywhere else. “That’s worth something.”

“If it is, it doesn’t feel like it. What would I go back to? A lifetime in prison? The church must have disowned me by now. Everyone from before is... dead.” He looked back at his hands. “More than just dead. And it’s my fault.”

“You didn’t know,” Joey said. “You can’t blame yourself for that.” He, on the other hand, had known everything and had still managed to muck it up.

“I _trusted_ her, and for what? For her to steal my friends’ souls? Sure, we weren’t close, it’s been twenty years, but no one deserves _that_.”

“No. No one does.” Joey looked over at Red again, waiting until he saw her take a definitive breath before relaxing a little.

“So, what now? I doubt it’ll be long before the police show up.”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “I just want to get her home safe.”

Michael looked over at Red. “Who is she?”

Joey waited for her next breath before responding. It took longer than he’d wanted. “Someone important. Do me a favor, will you? See if you can get that bleeding to stop. Get the shirt off my body if you need to.”

“That... doesn’t seem right for me to do.”

“You’ve got my permission, isn’t that enough?”

“Even still, it seems a bit like desecration.”

“Priests,” Joey muttered.

And yet, Michael bent down, pressing his hand against the side of Red’s head.

“No blood-borne diseases?”

“I-“ Michael was baffled. “Who do you _think_ I am?” He sighed, shaking his head. “No.”

“Good.” She was still. So damn _still_. Sure, she always was when she went into the void, but it was different this time. There was blood leaking between Michael’s fingers. Maybe it was his, maybe it was hers.

It was different this time.

 _Check her pulse_ , Joey wanted to say, but the words died on his tongue. He couldn’t ask. He didn’t think he wanted to know.

“I’m surprised you’re not more upset about being, well, you know.”

Joey shrugged. “I’ve been dead longer than I was ever alive. I guess I’m just used to it now.”

“Maybe so, but you had a second chance at life. How many people get one of those?”

Not many. But he didn’t say it out loud, opting instead to gaze up at the sky. Of course he was upset. But he was tired of being useless, tired of being crippled by his own emotions. He had to be there for her. Even if it cost him. It already had, after all. He glanced back down at Red again briefly. What kind of game did she think she was playing? He had to get in there somehow. But it wasn’t exactly easy when she wasn’t-

“Hey, uh, Joey?”

“...Yeah?” He shook himself out of the stupor, turning his attention back to Michael.

“I think there’s something I can do to help.”

Joey shook his head. “You’re doing plenty. Just... watch over her.”

“No, you don’t understand. I could use my life for something. _Really_ something. It’s over for me anyway, I told you. I get it now.”

Joey frowned. “What are you saying?”

Michael unholstered his pistol, cocking the hammer.

“Are you crazy? Hey! Put that gun down!” God, if he could’ve, he would’ve ripped it right out of his hands.

“I know I sound insane. But I _have_ to do this. It’s the only way.” Michael pressed the gun to his head, taking a deep breath. Joey could see his mouth moving silently as he closed his eyes. A prayer?

“Don’t-“

The sound of a gunshot rang out, Michael’s body falling back into the snow. It wasn’t long before a pool of red began to form around his head.

Damn it. _Damn it_!

After a moment, the man’s ghost crawled his way out, looking around hesitantly. “Did it work..?”

“Did you kill yourself? Yeah. Congrats. Now Madeline’s gonna steal your soul.” Joey floated back and forth, agitated. “Why’d you have to go and do that?”

Michael shook his head. “She won’t.”

“What?”

“Her pull. I can’t feel it. Something’s preventing her from getting to me.”

Joey found his eyes being immediately pulled back down to Red. What the hell was she doing in there?

“Look,” Michael continued. “I know this is the right thing to do. I’m sure of it. I want you to have it.”

What? “What are you..?”

“My soul,” he said, floating over. “Take it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the rest of this is probably going to come out pretty rapid-fire.   
> Not-so-fun fact: Rosa absolutely tried to stay on her feet when she went into the void. She just couldn't because she's too badly injured. :/


	16. A New Dawn

“Every guide begins as a lost soul,” Madeline said, gazing into the light. “It just so happens that many of us never cease to be so.” She paused, frowning. “My host, he... he is dead.”

Rosa glanced quickly to where the door had used to be before looking back. What had happened out there? “You can sense that?”

“It’s something I’ve experienced many times. The connection is faint, yet I can still feel the change.” Madeline turned to her. “Our time grows short.”

Rosa paused, thinking. If there was a time for an outlandish theory, now would be it. If Father Michael was dead... “Could you try going through the light now? Maybe the bond between the two of you is weak enough that it’ll let you pass on.”

Madeline looked skeptical but floated closer nonetheless. After a moment, she shook her head. “It is not enough,” she said, returning to where she had been earlier. “Even if I were to use all the energy I have stored, I would not be able to move on.”

“But it’s closer than before,” Rosa pointed out.

“Yes. The threshold has been lowered by a significant amount.”

“How many souls would it take?” Not that she was about to let her go and take as many souls as she wanted, but it would be nice to have some kind of baseline.

“More than anyone could feasibly collect. There is no other way, Blackwell,” Madeline said, a somber expression settling over her face. “I am sorry. If you choose to leave now, I will not interfere. You have done more than most would ever be willing to.”

* * *

Joey stared in disbelief at the ghost of Michael before him, not exactly sure how to respond. “Take your... you’re kidding, right? Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I just shot myself, you think I’m kidding?”

“Yeah. Okay. That’s a fair assumption.” He floated back and forth, lips pressed tightly together. He’d seen what had happened to those spooks with his own eyes. Heard their screams. And now he was expected to replicate that? They couldn’t even risk trying to send Michael away. Not while Madeline was still in Red’s Nodespace.

“Well?”

“Look, I know you think you’re doing the right thing here, but I can’t do that.” Joey looked back at the priest, who was floating in place silently. “Even if I knew how, I can’t do that. Not after what I’ve seen.”

“If it saved her, would you?”

His eyes trailed back down to Red’s still figure. _Come on, Red. Get up. Get up! If you get up, I don’t have to..._ She didn’t move. “There’s got to be another way,” he whispered.

Michael shook his head. “I don’t really think you still believe that.”

Joey turned away. _‘I’m not going to turn into Madeline,’_ he’d said, on a night so much like this one. _‘Ever. Not if I’m a spook for a million years.’_ But Michael was right. He didn’t see another option. Joey closed his eyes for a moment, gritting his teeth. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

He wasn’t exactly sure what had happened after those words had left his mouth. Michael had nodded, and he’d just- he’d just _thought_ about it. There hadn’t been any violent tearing. No screaming. But his soul was there one second, and it wasn’t the next. He could only assume-

No. No, there were no assumptions here. He could feel it, coursing through his nonexistent veins. Like those stupid energy drink commercials that had come on the television. A rush unlike anything he’d ever felt. And the strangest thing? The strangest thing was suddenly he just _knew_ . It wasn’t even something he had to think about. He had enough energy- more than enough energy to bring himself back to life. Jesus, no wonder Madeline had gotten herself hooked on this stuff. It was _incredible_. It was- terrible.

What the hell had he just done? He’d broken his promise, that’s what. He’d-

No. Not right now. Not when Red still needed him. He had to get in there. Somehow.

Floating closer, he attempted to wrap the end of his tie around her bloodied hand while still wearing it. Okay, a little unorthodox, but... If he could just get enough tension in-

It took a second for him to regain his bearings upon entering the void. Red was standing with her back turned to him, Madeline another few feet away. Good. If she was here, she was still alive. He hoped. Joey glanced behind himself to find the portal had been closed. If he was being completely honest, that made him feel a little uneasy. This was a one-way trip, at least for the time being. And from his experience, nothing good ever came out of being in this place for longer than necessary.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked Red, floating a little closer to her.

“I’m fine,” she said, not a hint of surprise in her voice at his presence. “I’m just... I’m tired, Joey. I’m really tired.”

He nodded. “Don’t close your eyes.”

“I won’t.”

Madeline was looking at him curiously, and he made a point out of not bothering to look back.

“Look, why don’t we get out of here?” he prodded gently, coming up to Red’s side. “We’ll get you to the hospital and they can patch you up.”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Not yet?”

But before she could respond, Madeline floated over, still scrutinizing him. “Mallone.”

He scoffed, eye twitching. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

“As you may. But I have noticed a change in you.”

“I’m _dead_ ,” he spat, refusing eye contact.

“That is not what I was referring to.”

She knew. Of course she knew. If it could, the hair on the back of his neck would be standing up right about now. “Come on, darling,” he said, glancing back to where the portal would’ve been. “Let’s get a move on.”

But Red shook her head. “I- I think she’s right about this, Joey,” she said, looking at him. “What happened out there?”

He turned away from her gaze. Yeah. He should’ve expected this. “Michael shot himself. He asked me to take his soul.”

“And you did.” She wasn’t looking at him either, now.

“Yeah. I did.” He looked back at her, pained. “Look, I didn’t want to, you’ve gotta believe that.”

“I know.”

Then why the hell did he just feel worse about it? Like he’d betrayed everything they’d ever stood for. Maybe he had. “Rosa-“

“Just give me a moment, okay?” She walked a few steps away from him, expression clouded. “Joey, I-“

“I can bring myself back.”

She stopped in her tracks. “You what?”

“I don’t know, I can’t explain it. But I’ve got enough energy to bring myself back. More than enough. Michael- he said he wanted to help.”

“I see.”

“So why don’t we get out of here? Forget all this.”

But she shook her head again. “We can’t just leave Madeline here.”

“What do you mean we can’t just-“ He looked at the other ghost for the first time since entering, before looking back at Red. “After everything she’s done to me. To both of us. You _still_ -“

He knew what she was thinking. She didn’t say it, but he knew. Because they were better than that. He looked at Madeline again, before gazing into the light. It was an instantaneous calculation. “I can do it, Red.”

“Really?” That got her to turn around. “Madeline said she didn’t have enough energy to pass on, and she’s absorbed more souls than you have.”

He glanced back and forth again to confirm. “I don’t know what to tell you, but I can.”

Red almost seemed to perk up a little at the thought. “And if you sent her away, would you still have enough left over to...?”

“I don’t know.” He did know. He did know, but maybe it was better to just not-

“Joey...”

“No,” he sighed. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Whatever light that had sprung to her eyes quickly dimmed out. “Oh.”

Joey nodded, blinking a few times. “So, what do you say, Red?”

She turned back to him, meeting his gaze. After a moment, she shook her head. “I don’t think this is a decision I can make.”

Yeah. Maybe not. But he didn’t really want to make it either. “So, it’s up to me, then,” Joey said, looking Madeline in the eye for the first time since entering the void. “I get to decide your fate.” He would’ve expected himself to be happier about this. They’d won, hadn’t they? But he felt nothing more than defeated. Madeline might as well have been rubbing his face in the metaphorical dirt.

“I believe you are correct in your assessment of the situation,” Madeline conceded, looking about as happy as he felt. “I seem to find myself at your mercy.”

“Isn’t that something.” He had no idea how she could be so calm. He could walk out at any moment. Subject the broad to the same terrible fate her last host had left her with. The entire reason she’d been desperate enough to kill in the first place. Staring at that stony face of hers made him want to do it. And if it was up to him, he would’ve dragged it out. Chewed her out for every single person she’d ever hurt, every single life she’d ever ruined.

But Red didn’t have that kind of time. He glanced over at her, trying not to think too hard about the fact she looked like she was barely on her feet. So, he’d be... good. If that’s what it took. He never really knew what a proper ending to a spirit guide’s tenure was. But if it was a good deed, he couldn’t really think of a bigger sacrifice he could make.

“I’m sick of looking at you,” he eventually said, face twisting up. “So go.”

“Mallone..?”

She hadn’t been expecting it. But you know, neither had he. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Get out of here.”

Madeline nodded, floating towards the light. But before she entered, she stopped, turning back to them. “Perhaps I judged you too harshly.”

“You think?”

But for once, she didn’t react to the comment, choosing instead to give a solemn nod. “Thank you.” And with that, she turned around, fading away into the light.

Joey could feel the energy draining out of him as she left. He didn’t mind, really. It felt like something he was never supposed to have in the first place, anyway. It was probably better that-

“Huh?” Was it... coming back? No, it wasn’t the same. It felt different.

“Joey? What is it?”

“I... I think...” It didn’t feel anything like Michael’s energy had. Well, it did to some degree, there was just also something sinister he couldn’t put his finger on. Like a bitter taste in his mouth he couldn’t scrub out. He could almost tell the individual souls apart. George Ostin. Peter Fielding. ...Lia Pierro? When the hell...? She’d still been alive when he’d...

“Joey?” Red tried again, concern sneaking into her voice.

“I think Madeline gave me her energy,” he managed, still stunned. “Guess it makes sense, she won’t be needing it anyway.” He could almost reach inside himself, picture their faces. “I wish I could bring them back somehow.”

“I’m sorry.”

With that said, they both gazed into the light, a place these souls would never get to go. Joey always wondered what was on the other side of it. He supposed he’d just have to wait a little longer to find out.

“I’m surprised you did that, though,” Red said after a few moments.

“What, save Madeline?”

She nodded. “I would’ve thought, after everything you’ve said...”

He shrugged. “I felt charitable,” he lied.

And yet, as always, she wasn’t fazed. “Either way, I’m proud of you.”

“Proud of me,” he echoed numbly. “Even when you lost nearly as much as I did from my decision.” It was always the other way around. She’d rack up yet another restraining order, or get caught up in a ridiculous situation, and he’d tell her he was proud of her. And then there were the times he’d been legitimately proud, but hadn’t said it out loud. Red wasn’t closed off like he was, he supposed. It was admirable in a way. She was looking down now, fiddling with her fingers.

“Joey,” she said, voice a little softer than usual. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

“About what?”

“About loving me.”

He looked over at her, their eyes meeting. “Of course I did. Did you really need to ask?”

“I just... wanted to hear it, I guess.”

“Then I’ll say it as many times as you want, darling.” They fell silent again, the remaining unasked question growing heavier in the air by the second. Everything hinged on the answer, after all. Maybe they’d just be back to where they were before. After everything that had happened. After everything between them. He wouldn’t be able to touch her again. Or anything else, for that matter. Maybe he’d be okay with that. They’d head out again after a few days, rounding up spooks. It would be like nothing ever happened. He looked over at her as she blinked a few times, swaying slightly on the balls of her feet.  
But time was short as it was.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and let the thought fall into his head. And as it did, his eyes snapped back open.

“I... I can do it.”

“Really? You’re serious?” She looked more awake now, at least.

“Yeah, you think I would joke about something like that?”

Red shook her head. “No, it’s just... is coming back to life really that simple? You would think...”

“I don’t know,” he said back, shrugging. “I’d explain it to you if I could.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

He tried to smile at her. “Cheer up, sweetheart. It’ll all be over soon.” But he could hardly focus, even as the words left his mouth. He couldn’t even count the number of souls rattling around inside him at the moment. Not because of the sheer amount of them, but if he spent more than a second focused on them he could hear them all at once, a cacophony of voices. They were in pain. Crying out. And Lia was the loudest of them all. Begging for the daughter she’d lost. “There’s just one thing I’ve got to do first.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’ll be quick. Promise.” He knew that wasn’t really an answer, and her face reflected the sentiment. But it was something he had to do. So he tried to think of one little girl, alone in her room. After a few moments, she appeared in front of him, the small, green spook. Any normal person would’ve been terrified. But she seemed almost curious, wide eyes looking up at him.

“Hi, Kendra,” he said, smiling gently. “My name’s Joey. Sorry to bring you here like this, I know you were practicing. Is it okay if we talk for a little bit?”

* * *

Rosa wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, to say the least. Okay, no. She had no idea. But whatever it was, it had to be important. Joey was talking to a little girl a little distance away. Well, to be more accurate, the ghost of a little girl. Rosa had no idea who the girl was or how Joey had brought her here, but she didn’t think it mattered much. This conversation wasn’t meant for her.

Joey was bent over a little to talk to the girl, who seemed receptive enough to whatever he was saying. Rosa couldn’t make out what they were saying from where she stood. But it was the look on Joey’s face that really got to her. He was definitely putting on an act for the girl, an uncharacteristically paternal smile plastered on his face as he spoke. But his eyes told a different story. They burned with an intense focus, hints of regret buried further within. It was the same look in his eyes he’d had the day he’d come back nearly frozen to death, mumbling incoherent apologies. Which answered just about any questions she could have.

They talked a little longer before the girl backed up, nodding. And with a smile and a little wave goodbye, she passed on, disappearing into the light. Whatever Joey had been trying to pull off, it looked like he’d done it. His eyes were trained into the light, lingering another second longer before he came back to her side, nodding.

“I think it’s time.”

“Yeah.” She didn’t bother asking about what she’d just seen. She knew he’d tell her eventually.

Joey took a deep breath. “Well, then. Whenever you’re ready, Red. I’ll be waiting for you.” With those words, his ghost faded away, as if it was dissolving into mist before her. She could only hope he was out there. Either way, she’d have to find out. There wasn’t another choice. She sighed, rubbing her eyes. God, she could kill for a coffee right about now. With that thought, she opened up the portal, stepping back into the night.

“Urgh...” Rosa groaned, picking herself off the ground. Her head. She’d almost forgotten she’d gotten hurt in the first place. There was quite a bit of blood darkening the snow where she’d been lying. She could only imagine what Joey was thinking when he...

He was standing. Near where he’d died, by the exhumed grave. She could tell even from where she was that the legs he was on were unsteady. Even so, he took a stumbling step toward her, arms outstretched.

She could hardly believe her eyes, whatever words she could even think of getting caught in her throat. Was he really..?

“Come here, darling.”

And that’s all it took. She stumbled up to him, meeting his body in a tangled embrace of limbs that quickly made its way back to the ground, Joey letting out a grunt. But he was alive. They were both... alive. She backed up a little, breathing heavily. “Sorry. I’m hurting you.”

He pressed down on her back with his good hand, shaking his head. “No, I... I want you here.”

So she relented, resting her head back down on his chest, albeit cautiously.

Strained laughter forcing its way through his chapped lips, arm hanging limply over her. “We did it, Red. We really... we really did it.”

And as the first licks of sunrise began to brighten the horizon, Rosa closed her eyes, a content smile spreading across her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then they both froze to death. I'm joking plz-
> 
> I'm just going to apologize in advance because this note is, uh, long.
> 
> Okay, okay. I promise I have an explanation. Basically, it's implied throughout the series that spiritual energy is in some way tied to personal fulfillment. For example, Gavin's victims lost their sense of self/happiness in their own lives when he started leeching off of them, and the Grace Group got overloaded by moving them to their supposed place in life too quickly. However, none of the energy we see taken by others is done willingly. I figured that self-sacrifice in the name of the greater good would count as quite a fulfilling thing, and the fact that it was given away willingly, rather than being torn from an unlucky ghost (not to say Michael wasn't unlucky) exponentially increased the amount of energy Joey would've received from the transaction.
> 
> As to bringing KayKay over, uh- well, Rosa was able to bring every ghost ever at one point, I figured one ghost wasn't *too* much of a stretch.
> 
> I actually don't know myself how a spirit guide's tenure is meant to end. Is it just when the Bestower runs out of family members? Because, that sucks. I wonder if there will ever be a canonical answer, because I'm too dumb to think of one myself.
> 
> Fun facts!
> 
> 1\. When Madeline said Rosa could leave if she wanted to? In the words of our favorite half-jinn, "that is a lie". She probably would've hijacked Rosa's body, then poor Joey would be stuck with the person who killed him. Aka not ideal.
> 
> 2\. Rosa drinks three cups of coffee (and two cups of tea... and one soda) over the course of the story.
> 
> 3\. The other reason besides just being too tone breaking as to why Joey was not literally ripped in half is because I really couldn't justify bringing someone in two pieces back to life. Someone in one piece was already pushing it as it was.
> 
> 4\. You'll see when I put up an epilogue, but yes, the story does canonically end on the dawn of Christmas Day, though it was entirely unintentional. Which is part of the reason why no one ever acknowledges this. Going off of Peter Fielding's calendar, the second day of Epiphany was on January 7th, 2014. Subtract a day and three weeks... and this is where we end up. Totally not why I was trying to push this whole thing out by Christmas. Not at all. :)
> 
> Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, everyone.


	17. Epilogue

Police report submitted by Detective Sam Durkin.

Time: 8:21 AM, December 25th, 2013

Location: Greenwood Cemetery

I arrived on the scene at around 7:15, after receiving a tip of a commotion at the cemetery. Two people were found, later identified as Rosangela Blackwell and Joseph Mallone, alongside an exhumed grave. Both were admitted to Bellevue for further treatment. A body was also present on the scene, identified to be that of Father Michael Cooper.

Blackwell appeared to have suffered some sort of head injury upon contact with the edge of a blunt object, suspected to be a nearby headstone. Multiple instances of blood on the scene have been positively identified as belonging to the victim. The depth and angle of the injury suggest being pushed at a high speed from above, though nothing else at the scene correlates with this theory.

Mallone’s injuries are equally, if not more perplexing. Multiple fractures were found in his right hand, along with several broken ribs, one of which occurred near the victim’s heart. No external bruising was found, or any other injuries indicating a struggle. Cause is unknown.

Cooper, the likely perpetrator, was found dead on the scene. Cause of death was a bullet shot at point-blank. Believed to be suicide. Lesions on the suspect's hands seem to suggest he had been the one to dig the grave, for reasons unknown.

Durkin sighed, putting the paper back in its file. It didn’t make any coherent sense to him. Of course it didn’t. Nothing about that lady ever made any sense. And since the perp was dead, the case was practically open and shut. Despite the fact that it felt like an incomplete crime scene. How did someone break their ribs without being hit by anything? If the perp had a gun, why wouldn’t he have used it on anyone besides himself? Nothing matched up.

Ugh. He needed a cigarette. He left the station, leaning against the brick facade as he pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. As he placed it between his teeth, the front door swung open, another person walking out.

“Detective Durkin.”

He flipped open his lighter, dipping the end of the cigarette into the flame before turning to face the new arrival. “Oh, commissioner. Something you wanted to tell me?”

She shook her head, a knowing smile on her lips. “Just to offer advice. There are some cases that are simply beyond understanding. Don’t try and trouble yourself with doing so.”

Hm. He took a puff of the cigarette, shrugging. “Just doing my job.”

The commissioner paused for a moment, nodding. “As you were, then.”

Durkin took a longer draw of the cigarette as she returned inside the building. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be the last he saw of Blackwell. He was pretty sure of that. Actually, thinking about it, there was something he probably should do.

* * *

The hospital room was small, even without the divider cutting it in half. He had the feeling that was all they were able to afford. That was part of the reason he was here, after all.

Blackwell was seated in a chair near the door, hunched over her phone. A book that seemed to be from the lobby lay on a table beside her, either already finished or neglected. It could go either way. Her friend was lying on the bed nearby, asleep. Until recently, he hadn’t even entertained the idea of her having friends. She was always out at night alone, mumbling cryptic things on street corners. Durkin shouldn’t have been surprised that this “friend” of hers was equally as odd. The one encounter he’d had with the man was enough to convince him of that, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little relieved that he wasn’t conscious for this conversation.

“Blackwell.”

The scrawny woman looked up at the sound of her name, pushing her glasses to the bridge of her nose. “Oh, Detective Durkin. Is there a reason why you’re here?”

He shrugged, looking back and forth between the other occupants of the room. “About what just happened to you... Do I even want to ask?”

To Durkin’s surprise, a small smile danced on her lips. “You probably don’t. But the situation’s been handled.”

“The... situation.” He didn’t really like the sound of that.

But as if she was oblivious to his confusion, she nodded. “It’s what we do.”

“Right, uh...” He reached into his pocket, bringing out an envelope. “I just came to give you this.”

She took it from him, brow furrowing as she opened it to reveal a bundle of cash. “This is... I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

“Consider it a gift.” He scratched the back of his head, sighing. “Look, I looked into that friend of yours. He’s got no birth certificate, no medical records, no identification documents.”

Blackwell didn’t answer that, expression tightening.

“All I’m saying is, if you want to change that, come see me Monday. I’ll see what I can do.”

She nodded, features softening. “I see.”

Durkin cleared his throat. “As for your friend... try to keep him out of this place. Hospital bills ain’t cheap these days.”

She chuckled. “Believe me, he doesn’t want to be here.”

They stood in silence a moment longer, Blackwell looking into the envelope again.

“Anyway,” Durkin said, “I’ll be heading out.” But he hadn’t taken more than two steps toward the door when she called out again.

“Wait. I just don’t understand why you’re doing this. Why are you helping us?”

He didn’t turn back around, but if she could see his face, she might’ve seen the hint of a smile. “I have my reasons,” he said, throwing back the same phrase he’d heard her use so many times.

The woman was still stunned when he left, fingers clutching the envelope.

* * *

Several months later.

Rosa walked out of a large office building, purse slung over her shoulder. Well. At least that was done with. It wasn’t long before she spotted Joey waiting for her on a nearby bench, two paper bags in his hands.

When he saw her he stood up and walked over, practically beaming. “So? How’d it go?”

“It was fine.” The intoxicating smell wafting from the bags permeated the air, and she could feel her mouth salivating at the thought of getting at their contents. But when she reached for one of them, he casually stepped back, holding it out of reach.

“Come on,” he insisted, grin seeming more sinister by the second. “They loved you, didn’t they?”

She reached for the bag again, but he was somehow always one step further. “Joey, stop holding my lunch hostage.”

“Not until you tell me how the meeting went.” He looked at one of the bags, shrugging. “Those sandwiches sure do smell good, don’t they?”

She sighed, shaking her head, knowing he wasn’t about to give up anytime soon. “I got the publishing deal.” The moment the words left her mouth, he tossed her one of the bags, Rosa barely catching it.

“There, now it’s a congratulatory sandwich,” Joey said, pulling his own sandwich out of the second bag. “Doesn’t that feel nice?”

“And if I hadn’t gotten the deal?”

“Well, then it would have been a consolation sandwich, wouldn’t it?”

Rosa rolled her eyes as she pulled out her sandwich from the bag, taking a large bite out of it. Mm. Salami and cheese. God, she was hungry. It had taken forever just to get to the building, especially with the morning delays that inevitably plagued the subway system. Then she’d had to wait for the meeting to start, sit through obligatory corporate greetings, and somehow make a pitch for her book that was closer to an autobiography than fiction. Not that anyone there would have known any better. But it made sense for her to document everything that had happened, and Joey had agreed wholeheartedly to the idea.

“That story you told me,” she said, chewing away. “About Auntie Lauren and the Countess. I was thinking of writing that next.”

“You haven’t even finished writing the first one,” he mumbled through bites of his own sandwich as they began to make their way to the nearest subway station.

“Sure, but it would be a good thing to have. Even if this one doesn’t end up selling well.”

Joey chuckled. “Well, for our sake, I hope it does.”

Joey hadn’t exactly gotten a job yet. He’d been saying things about starting up his own tailor shop again, but they barely had enough money to pay the rent and feed themselves as it was, let alone enough to start a business. Even applying to entry-level jobs without any experience was getting harder every day in the city.

“You know,” he said, “I was thinking about maybe trying to get hired at one of the ten-thousand coffee shops in this city.”

“You?” She tried to imagine him standing behind a counter in a green apron. The image was comical at best.

“Sure. You’ve got something against free coffee?”

The man in the apron was now handing her a steaming cup. “Well, when you say it like  _ that _ ...”

“I thought so.” They finished their sandwiches as they neared the station, throwing the wrappers in the trash before descending down the stairs.

And as they stood on the platform, feeling the rumbling under their feet, she found his hand quietly reaching for hers.

“It’s a good life, isn’t it?” he murmured, squeezing her hand.

She took a second to look around. A man strummed away at a guitar in front of a graffiti-strewn wall, singing the newest pop ballad. Some people watched, but the majority were looking down at their phones, lost in their own worlds. A little girl shrieked with joy as her father tossed her in the air. A businesswoman was on a call, deep in some logistical conversation. Everything was simply blissfully boring. “It is.”

* * *

When they got back to the apartment, they found a large, green bottle resting in front of the door, a bright yellow ribbon tied around its neck. Without hesitation, Joey picked it up, spinning it to see the label.

“It’s champagne,” he stated, nodding in approval. “And not the cheap stuff, either. You think the publishing company sent this?”

“It’s possible,” Rosa said, but something about the timeline just felt off to her. There was no way they would’ve been able to send something faster than they had gotten back. Unless they’d already planned to accept her before the meeting?

“Well, it’s ours now,” he said, tucking the bottle under his arm as he unlocked the apartment door. “Grab some glasses. We’ll make a night out of it.”

As they entered, she made her way to the kitchen, opening one of the cabinets. She was sure she still had some nice wine glasses hiding somewhere. Maybe they were behind the-

“Jesus!”

Rosa whipped her head around to see Joey leaping back from the table, as thick smoke slowly poured from the now uncorked bottle. As she watched, eyes wide, the smoke formed the shape of a woman with dark curly hair, head wrapped in a scarf. There was something about her eyes that seemed to be wise beyond her appearance, the look in her bright yellow irises sharp enough to cut steel.

“I apologize for the deception,” the woman said almost sheepishly, her expression a stark contrast to the harshness of her gaze, “but we could not think of a better way to contact you. I do not mean you any harm.”

Rosa exchanged a quick confused glance with Joey before looking back at the woman. “Who are you?”

“My name is Mandana,” she answered with a nod. “I believe we have much to discuss. Come with me.” Without waiting for a response, she turned away, heading toward the door. “My associate is waiting downstairs.”

Joey raised an eyebrow as she left. “Well. After you, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, yeah.” It’s not like they had anything better to do. With a sigh, she followed after the stranger, Joey one step behind.

He had a suspicious glare on his face as they walked down the hall, eyes trailing down their unexpected visitor’s body. If it wasn’t for his expression, Rosa would’ve had half the mind to accuse him of something else entirely.

“She’s got a sword strapped to her waist,” Joey mumbled close to her ear.

“Do not worry,” Mandana declared, walking to the elevator. “There is nothing to fear.” She pressed the call button about as casually as a longtime resident would’ve.

Joey was baffled. “Did she just..?” But before he could properly interject, the doors to the elevator opened, the mysterious woman walking in.

Rosa blinked before following her, still not entirely sure if any of this was a good idea. Yet she was so stunned she could hardly think of an alternative.

“You think the hospital has loyalty cards?” Joey announced to the ceiling of the elevator, no longer making an attempt to be stealthy.

She smirked at him despite the absurdity of the situation. “Are you planning on finding out?”

He snorted in response, a befuddled grin spreading across his face.

“I am glad to see you are taking this well,” Mandana said, a seemingly genuine smile on her face. “Most would have panicked by now.”

“You popped out of a bottle,” Joey said, shrugging.

“I am half jinn.”

“Right, of course, and I’ve been dead twice.”

Rosa raised an eyebrow. “You  _ have _ been dead twice.”

“That’s what I said, didn’t I? Get with the program, darling.”

She had no idea what this supposed program was, but before she could ponder the idea any further, the elevator came to a halt. On the other side of the doors was a man wearing a long, dark trench coat and bright red tie, who tipped his hat in greeting.

Joey narrowed his eyes yet again, scanning over the new individual. “Nice tie,” he eventually settled with saying.

The man simply smiled back, a certain warmth to his demeanor. “Nice hat.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have been dead before, would you?” Joey asked as they stepped into the lobby.

The man laughed at the suggestion. “Heavens, no. Fire mage. We age slower.”

“...Right.”

That might’ve explained the warmth. It seemed fitting that someone who cast fire would have an equally cordial personality. A man who cast fire. Everything about this was ridiculous. Rosa wanted to accuse either of the strangers of lying, but she couldn’t sense a hint of dishonesty in the strange man’s sparkling blue eyes. Not to mention she’d seen the woman materialize from smoke with her own eyes. And the fact she’d already experienced much stranger things.

“Eli,” Mandana said, “I’d like you to meet...” She trailed off, looking at the two of them. “I seem to have forgotten to ask for your names.”

The man who must’ve been Eli nodded regardless. “Rosa and Joey, right? I know it sounds weird, but we’ve kind of been tracking your progress.”

“Progress?” Rosa asked.

“Sure,” he conceded. “We don’t typically deal with the things of the dead, but, well... let’s just say your situation was getting a... little out of hand. The problem was, we couldn’t exactly step in.”

Mandana dipped her head. “And yet you surpassed all our expectations with minimal guidance.”

Guidance? The pieces clicked in Rosa’s head. “The strange email. The one that told us to meet at the nightclub. That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed. I admit, it wasn’t much of a spur in the right direction, but you two performed splendidly.”

“What, so you knew what was going on and you just stood by and watched everything happen?” Joey accused.   
“Not... exactly?” Eli was slightly taken aback. “I promise everything makes sense in context. If you’d hear us out.”

“That still doesn’t explain what you want from us now,” Joey pressed.

Mandana nodded again, an ever-present knowing smile on her lips. “I expected you to say something like that. Come. I would like to tell you about the Unavowed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go. Thank you sincerely to anyone who managed to get this far haha. Originally, there was only ever going to be one epilogue, but at one point I wrote two, and so they're both here?   
> Anyway, I hope you've all enjoyed this journey as much as I have. May we meet again someday. :)


End file.
